The Fox and the Sloth
by Frederick Aloysius
Summary: This story is now a team effort between Frederick Aloysius and Captainkodak1. All furture chapters will be posted under the name GJAgents. Please leave any reviews there.
1. Chapter 1: The Radiological Incident

_Fall, 2005_

"16.... 41...18.... Open Sesame!"

Despite the fact that Ron Stoppable had been opening the same locker at Middleton High for the past three and a quarter years, he always got a kick out of saying that. Sure, it wasn't what the 'normal' high school student would do, but then again, his personal motto was 'Never be normal'.

He allowed himself a small smile, one of the few that he had had in the last two weeks. He sighed, and began rummaging through the rather disorganized interior of his locker, searching for his Latin book, as class was about to begin in a few minutes. The blonde never really cared that much if he was late for a class, but Latin was different. For some reason, one that even Wade couldn't figure out, he had shown quite the aptitude in his language class. In fact, it was the first 'A' that he had accomplished in a class. Ever.

Finding what he had come for, he grabbed the book and, slamming the door shut, he took off down the hall. He had just stepped into the classroom when the bell went off, signaling to the teacher that while he had cut it close, Ron had still made it in time.

"Ronald, why don't you take your seat so that we can get started?" his instructor asked, with a tolerant smile.

The blonde simply smiled back and plopped down in his assigned seat about two-thirds of the way back. He was having difficulty concentrating on what the teacher was saying, as he was too lost in his thoughts that had, once again, settled on the events of two weeks ago. It wasn't everyday that one was involved in, what had been politely called by the US State Department, as a 'radiological incident'. Basically, it meant that a small nuclear bomb had gone off.

It really wasn't Team Possible's fault. At least, not according to Global Justice. But, then again, GJ had a vested interest in seeing that Kim and Ron were found to be without fault in the international incident given that it was GJ who had called them in in the first place. And not everyone was sharing Dr. Director's view of the facts.

It had started simply enough. The four musical tones that the two friends had come to equate with the job had interrupted an otherwise lazy Saturday afternoon spent at Middleton Park. Wade informed them that a Global Justice spy satellite had picked up some suspicious activity in a remote region of Siberia. It seemed that a Geiger counter had registered an increased level of radiation in an area that wasn't supposed to have a nuclear reactor or house a nuclear warhead.

Kim, who normally wasn't one to shy away from a mission, had her doubts about this one. It sounded more like a job for the Russian military or maybe even the CIA. So, using a protocol that she hadn't used since her first encounter with the top-secret law enforcement agency, she placed a call directly into the office of the head of Global Justice.

To say that Dr. Director was surprised when the private line to her office rang would have been an understatement; there were only seven people in the world that knew it existed. It just so happened that the two seventeen-year-olds at the other end of the line happened to be two of the seven. Kim got right down to business, wanting to know why GJ was sending them in.

The reason was simple enough, even if it did bruise Kim's ego a little. Team Possible, it turned out, was fourth on the list of people that GJ wanted on this case. Global Justice itself had no assets in place, as with the CIA. The Russian military simply refused to acknowledge that something was going on, probably because it didn't want to be dictated to by an American-funded agency. So, Team Possible was it.

So, twelve hours later, Kim and Ron were jumping out of a FedEx Jumbo 747. Their transportation had to be civilian, as the Russians weren't about to help and definitely weren't about to let a US military plane invade Russian airspace. The jump itself was quite uneventful as was the trek to the location that GJ had given Team Possible. Things, however, got quite eventful once they reached their destination.

It seemed that with the abysmal state of the Russian economy, the government was unable to pay their army. But, several officers in the missile corps had found a way to make all the money that they would ever need. They were going to steal one of the warheads of an ICMB. In fact, they had already stolen it and were transporting to their contact that was waiting for them on the Pacific coast.

Perhaps they should have just tailed them to their buyer, or called in reinforcements from GJ, but that simply wasn't the style of Team Possible. Kim and Ron both jumped into the fray with both feet. And although it was the first fight that they had been in that involved live gunfire, both freelance agents held their own. They had neutralized most of the enemy forces when Kim realized that the last one had managed to get near the control panel for the weapon. Before she could do anything to stop him, the last soldier entered in the authorization codes and activated the bomb.

Kim quickly contacted Wade who analyzed what the soldier had done. His analysis was not welcome news however; the bomb was active and would detonate within fifteen minutes. And there was no way to figure out the cancelation codes in time to stop it. Fortunately, they were close enough to the Japanese border, and Wade had an exit transport there in five minutes. Everyone made it out alive, but a large section of Eastern Siberia was going to be uninhabitable for about ten thousand years.

Word was quickly relayed to Moscow about the 'incident'. Of course, once the Foreign Ministry learned that two American teenagers had been involved in the explosion, they instantly spun the whole thing as Team Possible's fault, with one sub-Cabinet level minister going so far as to say that the it was the act of US espionage and that Russia was now in a de-facto state of war with the US. No one really believed him, but the point got across to Washington, loud and clear.

When Team Possible got back to Middleton, they were greeted by four FBI agents, two at the Possible residence and two at the Stoppable residence. And while they were officially there to simply bring Kim and Ron in for their debriefing, the agents did nothing to allay the fears of the two sets of parents who were now worried that their children might be on trial in a Russian court sometime very soon. After they had been picked up, Ron saw Kim once more at the FBI field office in Denver for but a brief second, and then he was led off to his own interrogation room.

That was two weeks ago and Ron Stoppable had not heard a single word from Kim in all that time. He had gone to the Possible's at least a dozen times looking for information, but her parents hadn't heard anything either. In fact, they had secured the services of an attorney in an attempt to force the government to reveal the location of their daughter. All three of them were sure that she was still being held by the Justice Department, despite the assurances from the Deputy Director of the FBI that she had left on her on recognizance a mere ten hours after being taken into custody.

All this added up to one very lonely, very depressed, and very worried blonde that had not listened to a single word so far in his Latin class. He would have been quite content to have simply stayed in his own little world, imaging every possible horrible thing that could have happened to Kim, but it seemed that his teacher had this strange notion that his students should actually be listening to him in his class.

"Ronald, did you hear what I asked you? Could you please open you textbook to page ninety-four and following along with the rest of the class?"

This brought a round of laughter from the class as Ron simply sat there with an embarrassed expression as his only reply. Deciding that it wasn't in his best interest to upset the only teacher at Middleton High that actually liked him, the blonde open his book to the indicated page. Just as he was about to push the entire Kim problem out of his mind for the rest of the class, he noticed for the first time that something was stuck in his Latin book.

As he flipped to where it was embedded, he realized that it was a sealed envelope. He took it out and examined the back. It was simple and white, legal sized with no identifiable marking on it whatsoever. Then he turned to look at the front, and there he saw something that caused his heart to skip a beat. In neat script, a single word was written. "Ron". And it was in Kim's handwriting.

_"Class be damned,"_ Ron thought as he ripped open the envelope. Inside was a single sheet a paper that he quickly unfolded. Scanning it, Ron saw that it was a letter that Kim had written to him. He couldn't figure out when she had had the time to slip it into his locker, or how she had gone unnoticed when the entire school was wondering where she had gone off to. He read it, and then read it again as there wasn't much to it.

_Ron, _

_Meet me at the bench in Middleton Park where we had the picnic two weeks ago at ten o'clock tonight. Do not tell anyone that you have had any contact from me._

_Kim_

Kim's note caused Ron to go through a whole range of emotions from relief that Kim was okay to confusion over what was up with the cryptic meeting to a little bit of anger that she was back in town and hadn't come by to tell him that she was alright.

But none of that mattered at the moment. It was only two in the afternoon and all his questions would have to wait for another eight hours when he could ask the million questions that he now had.

Ron found that he was so excited to see his best friend again that he had left for the park well in advance of the specified time so that he was waiting for over half an hour before his watch told him that the ten o'clock hour was upon him. But as the minutes pasted and there was no sign of Kim, he was beginning to wonder if he had the right spot. Or if Kim was going to show at all.

His questions about the meeting were all put to rest when he noticed a figure walking along the path towards his location. It was late, and he hadn't seen anyone pass by him in the part the entire time that he was there so he instantly thought it might be Kim. But as the figure got closer, Ron could see that whoever it was, they were wearing a brown trench coat.

The blonde felt his heart sink because Kim didn't wear trench coats. Then he remembered her first date with Josh; she had worn one then. He quickly looked back at the approaching figure and as they passed by one of the lights that illuminated the trail, he caught a quick glimpse of red hair.

"KP!" her best friend shouted loud enough to announce to the whole town that she was back. He ran the rest of the way over to her and picked her up in a great big bear hug that she instantly returned. When he felt that he had embraced her as long as was acceptable for a guy who was only her friend, he started to let go but stopped when he realized that Kim wasn't letting go quite yet.

After a while, even Kim was forced to break the hug, although Ron thought she looked like she wanted to let the embrace go a little longer. But he put that thought out of his mind as he looked at his best friends whom he hadn't seen in two weeks.

"Kim, where the hell have you been? I've been so worried about you which is nothing compared to the state that your mother is in? What's going on?"

Kim gave Ron a small smile and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Sorry I'm a little late. I had to be sure that no one was following you before I could make contact."

The teen gave his friend a very dubious look at the thought that someone would follow the 'sidekick' part of Team Possible. "Ah, Kim, why would anyone want to follow me?"

The redhead gave a little sigh as she began leading him away from the spot on the trail where he had caught up with her and over towards the bench. "That's a very good question, Ron, and I promise that by the end of our talk tonight, it will be answered."

"What else do we have to talk about?"

Kim turned and looked Ron straight in the eye to convey the seriousness of what she was about to say. She took a deep breath, just enough to brace her for what she was about to lower on her poor unsuspecting friend. "Ron, we have to talk about the future of Team Possible. The future of us."

Author's Notes: To those of you who are patiently awaiting an update to "Their Good Name" please be assured that it is coming. There are currently four drafts of the chapter on my computer with a fifth being worked on now. Its not so much writer's block, as I know exactly what I want to convey in Chapter Six, its just that I've become quite disgusted with the quality of the work that I have produced.

So, something that one of my high school English teachers once told me was that if you ever found yourself writing and rewriting something over and over again without any luck, go write something else and allow your mind to focus on other matters. Then come back at what you were trying to write in the first place with a fresh view. So, I am taking his advice.

This was an idea (one of many others) that I had come up with and figured that this was a good time to get started on it. I'm going to put up one or two more chapters of this work along with my other new work, "The Legend of the Lotus Blade," before I return back to work on "Their Good Name," which should be Monday, 5/3. In the meantime, enjoy my two new works.

One other thing: For those of you who have read it, my first work, "Inner Strength" is being turned into a comic by one of the best KP artists that I have come across Rich Sirios. You can find the URL to the comic online in my bio section.


	2. Chapter 2: Condition Four

"Our future? I don't understand, KP, what about our future?" Ron asked. Between the disappearing act that Kim had pulled over the last two weeks and the cryptic message that she had left for him and the cloak and dagger way in which they were meeting in the middle of the night, the boy's patience was beginning to wear a little thin. 

Kim just gave her friend a rather enigmatic smile. "Yes, Ron, our future. As in yours and mine. And whether we have one at all."

At hearing that the person whom he had been worried sick about and missed more than all the nacos in the world thought that they might not have a future together, Ron quickly grew annoyed. And he was tired of shielding it from Kim. "Look, Kim, what the hell are you talking about? Of course we have a future together, why would you think otherwise? I think it's time you tell me just what is going on. No more sneaking around or evasive answers. Okay?"

The redhead sighed. She knew that she was going to have to let him know everything and was prepared to spill all, but that's not what was fueling her anxiety. That job was being handled by the fact that she had an offer to make to Ron, and she didn't know whether or not he was going to take it. But sitting here staring at him was getting her nowhere, so she simply nodded her head and gave him a weak "Okay".

Ron relaxed a little. He had known Kim long enough now that he could tell that she wouldn't hold back anything. So he started with the question that was foremost on his mind. "Alright, KP, lets start by where you've been the last two weeks."

"If I remember correctly, the last time you saw me before tonight was at the Denver field office of the FBI, right? While you were taken to a debriefing room, I was brought to the office of the Special Agent-in-Charge. The SAC told me that you were going to be interviewed and released without any charges or extradition procedures in your immediate future. I, however, was scheduled to be flown to Washington immediately as there were some people higher up the food chain that wanted to talk some things over with me."

"So, while you were starting your interview, I was taken to the rooftop helipad and whisked away. I'm sorry that I didn't call you, but I didn't have access to a phone and the Kimmunicator had been confiscated," she quickly added anticipating his next question. 

Ron, however, wasn't buying the 'I didn't have access to a phone' story. "Kim, you're saying that over the course of the past two weeks you haven't had the opportunity to pick up a phone and call? I mean, it didn't even have to be me, just someone from back home to let us know that you were all right! Sorry, I'm not buying it."

Kim had to smile at that. She was beginning to realize more and more each day that Ron Stoppable was a late bloomer and that, pretty soon, he was going to be all caught up in the intellect department. "You're right, Ron, I had access to a phone on the second day. Circumstances, however, conspired so that, although I wanted to call, I couldn't. I promise that there is a good reason, if you'll just hear me out."

The blonde raised an eyebrow, but remained silent. He couldn't see any sitch where Kim wasn't able to get a message to back home, but he was willing to hear her out.

Correctly interpreting his silence as a sign to continue, she got back to her story. "I arrived in Washington sometime around two in the morning, expecting to be taken to a hotel or something so that I could get a little sleep before the brass had at me. That was not to be, unfortunately. I was taken straight to the Department of Justice building and led to a meeting on one of the uppermost floors."

"There were five people at that meeting. The Under-Secretary of State, the Director of the FBI, the Director of Central Intelligence, the head of Global Justice, Dr. Director, and me. I tell you, Ron, up until that point I hadn't been scared over the outcome of the Siberian incident, but seeing not one but four high ranking officials in one room made me nervous."

"The meeting started off well enough. It became clear that the Under-Secretary would be in charge of the proceedings. He informed me that over the past twelve hours, the State Department had been in intense negotiations with the Russian Foreign Ministry and that a compromise had been reached. In exchange for a sizeable amount of aid money to help those effected in Eastern Siberia, the Russian government would not seek extradition of the two American teens involved in the explosion."

At that news, Ron gave an audible sigh of relief. The thought of being in any real trouble had left him after the FBI had released him two weeks ago, but had returned when Kim began describing her meeting in Washington. "Well, that's good news, KP. I mean, no Bueno Nacho for the rest of my life? I don't think I could make it a month," he quipped with a small smile at his joke.

Kim returned the smile, but it was tempered with the knowledge of what had happened in the rest of the meeting. "Yes, Ron, that is good news. Unfortunately, the deal came with a number of strings attached. Seems that there are quite a few people who would have preferred to pacify the Russians by giving them our hides instead of several million dollars. So, a compromise was reached."

"The State Department hadn't accepted the deal with the Russians yet, because they had some conditions that they wanted to place on Team Possible first. We could either accept the four conditions or the Secretary of State would tell the Russians that the deal was off and that they would be putting us on a plane to Moscow within the hour."

Ron was getting nervous again. Might Kim have turned down the offer and escaped from the FBI? Was that why she was on the run and hadn't made contact until now? 

"What did you tell them?"

"Well, first I wanted to know exactly what the four conditions that they were imposing were. The first three weren't that bad, especially compared to the thought of spending time in the Russian gulag. Condition one was that Team Possible was to be disbanded immediately. The federal government was now taking the stance that you and I are vigilantes operating outside the rule of law and therefore could no longer be tolerated. All missions were to stop instantly and the website was to be removed."

The blonde looked at her as if she had just said that she was going to have to remove her right arm or stop breathing or something similar. Going on missions was her life, it was what she lived for, and Ron suspected that one day it would become her career. But, then again, better to be bored and free than in prison.

"So, you agreed to it?" he asked.

"Of course," she shrugged. "I mean, what choice did I have? The next two conditions I agreed to without a second thought, thought. One was that you and I could have no further contact with any member of Global Justice, either professionally or personally. They wanted to make sure that GJ wasn't going to be running a Ôbelow the radar' version of Team Possible. The other condition was that you and I could never seek employment with the federal government, be it the Justice Department, the CIA, the military, or even the Parks Service."

Ron could see why she had agreed to the second and third condition. Without Team Possible, there really wouldn't be a need to ever again talk to Dr. Director and as far as working for the government, Ron had never wanted to do that anyway. That just left the fourth and final condition, which Ron couldn't decide if he wanted to know or didn't want to know. But it didn't look like he had much of a choice so he asked, "And what is the fourth condition?"

Kim paused for a moment, bracing herself before giving Ron the worst of it. Everything else the Under Secretary had wanted was a mere pittance compared to his fourth condition. In fact, had he left it to just the first three, Kim would have returned home to lead a normal teenaged life without the world-saving hero thing. But condition four was something that she decided that she simply could not live with, no matter what the cost. The question was, did Ron feel the same way?

So, she took a deep breath and plowed ahead. "Ron, the fourth condition was that you and I are not to have any contact with each other in the future. Ever."

The blonde suddenly felt sick to his stomach. It was as if someone had told him that a member of his family had died, which, he supposed, was the same thing if he couldn't see Kim again. For a moment, his mind went completely blank as he tried to process this information, but he just couldn't seem to get his mind around the concept. So, was this goodbye? After tonight, was he never going to be able to see his favorite redhead again?

Kim watched as Ron face conveyed every emotion that he was experiencing, from disbelief to anger to sadness to confusion. She gave him a sympathetic smile before taking his hand in her own. "I know, I went through the same thing when I found out."

By this time, Ron's cognitive functions were coming back online and he once again began to formulate questions for his friend. "So, is that why you haven't made any contact with me and why we have to meet in the middle of the park late at night?"

Kim nodded her agreement. "Yes, and its also the reason I had to make sure that no one was following you so that I could safely talk to you. You see, the FBI put a tail on you the night we got back from Russia to see if I was going to be able to keep my end of the bargain. I guess they feel that since I've been out of the country for two weeks, that I was gone for good and they dropped the surveillance on you."

Ron was so busy trying to process what he had been told that he almost missed the fact that Kim let slip part of where she had been in the last two weeks. He was just about to ask another question when his mind made the connection and he decided he wanted to know about where she had been first. "You've been out of the country? Where? Which country? Or countries? And why?"

"Before we get to that, I have to continue with my story. Needless to say, I told the Under Secretary that I was going to need some time to make a decision as to condition four. He gave me seventy-two hours to think it over, but he needed to tell the Russians something by that time. And that was the end of the meeting. I got up and was escorted out of the building, and really had no idea what I was going to do until a familiar figure caught up with me. It was Dr. Director."

At this point, Kim paused to see if her friend had any questions, but when he remained silent, she continued. "I was surprised that she wanted to talk to me at all given that GJ was in some hot water over the matter and that she hadn't said a single word in the meeting. She asked me how I was doing, and I told her that I had had better days. She knew right away what it was that had me depressed and came right out and asked me about condition four. The scowl that crossed my face was enough of an answer for her."

"Then she asked me something that I wasn't prepared for. She said, 'What if there was a way for you and Stoppable to continue to see each other, to continue to be friends, and maybe even continue the work of Team Possible?' I told her that I would probably jump at the chance and take it. She then smiled back at me and handed me a business card, telling me to be in that man's office at exactly eight in the evening that night. And with that, she took her leave of me."

The thought of a way out of this mess had Ron sitting on the edge of the bench. "So, what was on the card?"

"It was a business card for a Basil Covington, an antiquities dealer in London. I couldn't figure out what he could possibly do to help now, but it was Dr. Director and she hadn't steered me wrong in the past, so I figured that I would at least see what he had to say. Besides, it's not like I had a whole lot of options at the time. So, I got in touch with Wade and setup a ride. Seven hours later I was walking the streets of London looking for Mr. Covington's store."

"His store wasn't anything extraordinary, just exactly what you would expect in an antiques store. I went in and said that I had an appointment with Mr. Covington to one of the sales clerks. She led me to the back where I entered Covington's office. His office was, well... try to imagine what your locker would look if it was a room and you have his office. Covington himself was a very nice man, in his late fifties, and he waived me to take a seat."

"He started off by telling me that he had been following the exploits of Team Possible and that he was most impressed with out work. I thanked him, but asked him why an antiques dealer would follow us. He smiled and informed me in no uncertain terms that the shop I was sitting in was a cover for a division of MI-5. That's British Intelligence, Ron," she added in response to the blonde's quizzical look.

"It seems that he was fully aware of the current sitch that I found myself in and couldn't believe that the Americans were willing to break-up one of the best anti-terrorist teams that they had. And it had been decided that if the US didn't want Team Possible, then we would be welcomed by the British Crown instead."

"I told him that that was no longer possible as my government had disbanded the team permanently. He laughed lightly and told me that he knew about the conditions that were being placed on us from a source inside GJ that he referred to as ÔBetty'. He said that, for what he had in mind, it really didn't matter what the American government wanted."

This intrigued Ron. He had been under the impression that the British would do whatever they could to not upset Washington, but what Covington had told Kim was in contradiction with that assumption. "What exactly did he have in mind?"

Kim smiled, because this was the only part of the entire conversation that was going to be fun. "It's actually quite simple really. MI-5 had been looking to put together a team that would not be associated with the British government in any way, but would be supplied with certain 'protections' in exchange for services rendered. Put another way, Team Possible would be independent from any government but the British Crown would protect us for performing certain jobs for them each year."

It took a moment for Ron to digest what he had been told. If he thought that he had a lot of questions before, it was nothing compared to the amount that he had know. What did Covington mean by protection? And what types of jobs did he want them to perform? And how exactly was all this going to work with Kim and Ron still in school in Middleton, Colorado?

But all the questions he had were instantly put on the back burner when he realized that Kim had found a way to keep them together. His smile started out small but grew to the point where it was threatening to split his face. The thought of his life without Kim Possible was simply too much to bear, and no matter what he had to do with this new opportunity, he was sure that he would do it.

His partner, however, having been through the same though process that Ron was going through just then, knew exactly what he was thinking because she had thought the very same thing. And she knew that he was thinking that he would do anything to keep the friendship going. Unfortunately, he didn't know exactly how much 'anything' was going to cost him.

So, before his enthusiasm got even more out of hand, Kim placed a hand on his shoulder to get his attention. "Ron, I can see that you are very happy right now, and that's good, but you need to realize that the offer that Covington is making us comes with a high price."

_"High price?"_ Ron thought. _"What could be a higher price than never seeing Kim again?"_ He thought about it for a second, and came to the conclusion that he couldn't think of anything worse than that, so he asked her what she meant.

"The catch is this. In order to ensure that the US government doesn't know about us, and in order to ensure that there is no connection between us and the British government, we have to disappear, Ron. We get on a plane in the middle of the night and we never look back. No contact with friends, no contact with our families, no return visits to Middleton. There is the distinct possibility that they will arrange to have our deaths faked so that everyone back home can get on with their lives. In essence, your life, as you know it will end and you will start a new one with me, and only me."

The catch wasn't as bad as it could have been. There was no doubt in his mind that it wasn't a high price to pay, it was an enormous price to pay. Could he live without ever seeing his parents again? But, then again, the idea of starting a new life with Kim at his side definitely appealed to him. As he was pondering this, a thought came to him. "What did you say to Covington, KP? About the offer?"

Kim looked him in his chocolate eyes and grabbed both his hands. "I told him that I was going to take him up on his offer. It would be so much better if you decide to come with me, Ron, as I really can't bear the thought of losing you. But, with or without you, I am getting on a plane tomorrow night and I'm not coming back."

***

Author's Notes: I always thought that, if push came to shove, Kim would do whatever was necessary to continue her crime fighting. So, I wondered what would happen if she was ever told that she had to shut down the website and disband Team Possible. I was also inspired by something I read in Allaine's work "Green, Black, and Blue" about whether or not Kim would eventually start offering her services for hire later on in her life. Except I'm a fan of Ron and Allaine's a fan of Shego's and Kim is more forced into it in my story. 

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. The next one is going to deal mostly with Ron's feelings about the offer that he has been given. Look for the next chapter of "The Legend of the Lotus Blade" to go up tonight, with the next chapter of this work sometime shortly after that.


	3. Chapter 3: Ticket to a New Life

The next few minutes passed by in complete silence. To Ron, it felt as though he had somehow managed to get outside his body and was watching himself and Kim like it was some sort of perverse movie. His best friend, his only friend, was telling him that she was leaving the life that she had built behind for good. And she wanted him to come with her. 

Part of him was immensely flattered. He had always been seen as the 'sidekick' part of Team Possible, the distraction and of no real use except to give the hero the opening that they needed to take care of business. Most people simply forgot his name, if they even remembered that Team Possible had a second member to begin with. But now it seemed that there were at least a few people who had noticed him, and the thought that they had deemed him worthy of such an offer was extremely gratifying. 

Yet the other part of him knew that this offer represented a decision that he wasn't really sure that he was mature enough to make. Put simply, he could either give up almost everything he had, including his parents, and go off with Kim never to return again, or he could stay behind, and give up the single most important thing in his life, his best friend. He began to wonder just how Kim had come to her decision and so he asked her.

"It wasn't easy. And I've had almost two weeks to think it over. Either choice is going to break my heart, so it became a task of figuring out which option was the lesser of two evils. I've spent a lot of time thinking about what my family means to me, what you mean to me, my life here in Middleton, Monique, Josh..."

At the mention of Josh Mankey's name, Ron allowed his feelings for the boy flash across his face. It wasn't that he didn't like Josh; he had always been nice to Ron and had treated Kim with nothing but respect. It was just that he hated the fact that he might not be the most important guy in Kim's life anymore, and it hurt. Especially since he was unable to get any dates in high school, and was forced to sit at home while Kim was on a date with Josh.

Usually, he was able to hide how he felt about Kim's maybe boyfriend, but with everything that had happened that night, his emotional defenses weren't as at the ready as they usually were and he let his feelings show. Kim, for her part, saw how his face changed and had to smile at that. As good as Ron was at hiding it, Kim had known him for way too long for him to be able to keep anything from her. And even though she knew how he felt, it didn't mean that she was not going to go on any dates just to make him feel better. But she would always be thankful for the way in which he kept those feelings to himself.

"Yes, Ron, I thought about what Josh really means to me. I know that you're not that fond of our relationship, and that you try to keep it hidden from me." The blonde tried to interrupt Kim at this point to argue the point, but she just held up her hand. "It's okay. You never were any good at hiding your feelings. And I want to thank you for trying to protect me like that, but Josh is a part of my life and he did enter into my decision."

Her friend gave a resigned sigh. In the end, it didn't really matter that she knew about how he felt about Josh, because she was leaving that behind anyway. "You've told me the parts of your decision, but you haven't told me how you made your decision."

"Over the two weeks that I had to think it over, I went through a lot of 'what-ifs' and mental lists of the pros and cons of each person, each part of my life. And in the end, it boiled down to one simple truth. You and I are the only ones that I can ever fully trust with the safety of my friends and family."

"Take our last mission, for example. Global Justice and the CIA and the Russian military were all completely inept at stopping the sale of a several megaton bomb from being sold to what we can only assume were terrorists. But we were able to stop them. Just you and me, two seventeen-year-olds doing a job that some of the most powerful government agencies in the world couldn't do. Imagine if we weren't there? Imagine if those soldiers had succeeded in their plan? That bomb could have ended up in the trunk of a car, parked on some street in New York, or Washington. Or Denver."

"If you look at it from that perspective, the choice comes down to this. I can either sit at home and wait for the day that some maniac like Draken or Monkey Fist or someone that we haven't even come across yet comes along and hurts or kills the ones I love right in front of me or I can take an opportunity that has been given to me to see that that day never happens. Either way, I lose my loved ones but at least if I go with Covington, I can sleep at night knowing that they are safe and will live out their lives to the fullest."

Her reasoning made sense to Ron. It was one of those 'damned-if-you-do damned-if-you-don't' type of situations, but it was still an awful lot to give up to make sure that the people back home were safe. And what if the nightmare scenario where a maniac like Draken got lucky never happened? She would be throwing away her entire life for something that would have never come to pass in the first place. 

"What about your parents? I mean, I know you can't tell them what's going on but how do you think they would react if you could tell them?"

Kim took a deep breath and pondered that for a moment. She had thought about that very question for the past two weeks and she had come to a conclusion, but she wasn't sure if it was what her parents really would say in this situation or what she would want them to say.

"Ron, I think that my parents would understand that this is the life that I chose and would support me. Even if it would devastate them to be losing their only daughter."

The blonde wasn't entirely convinced that that was how her parents would see things, especially her father, but he was suddenly consumed with another thought. What would his parents think? He was positive that they would be against such an idea. They had never been too fond of him going on missions, and after their little visit from the FBI they were even more rattled than before. In fact, after he had gotten back from Denver, his father had told him that they were going to have to have a talk about his future in Team Possible. Two weeks later, they still hadn't had that talk, mostly, Ron suspected, because Kim had still been MIA. 

Suddenly, another doubt crept into his mind. "KP, why me? I mean, I know that I'm a part of Team Possible, but let's face it. I'm the distraction, nothing more. In the end, my job is to give you time to go defeat the bad guys. Why even offer me this chance? I would think that it would be better if it was just you, instead of us."

Kim gave her friend a sad little smile. They both knew that, deep down, Ron was always questioning his role in the team but neither of them ever wanted to talk about it. Unfortunately, like so many other things, their current sitch was forcing them to deal with this issue as well.

So, Kim once more grabbed his hand and looked him in the eye. "There are two reasons why you are being offered this opportunity. First, out of all the dangerous situations we have been in, out of all the times we have been captured and were facing certain doom, out of all the times we rushed in head first to save the world, there has only been one person that I would, that I could trust my life with. And that's you. You've been my friend long enough to know just how much of a control freak I am. What does it tell you that I am willing to give up control of whether I live or die to you?"

Ron had to smile at that. He knew that she depended on him at times, but he had never thought about it like that before. "And the second?"

The redhead gave his hand a small squeeze before continuing. "And the second reason is that, if there was one thing and only one thing that I could bring with me from my old life into my new one, it would surely be the most important thing to me, the thing that I hold most dear. And that's you, Ron. I'm really not sure what I'm going to be facing after tomorrow night, but one thing is clear. If you're at my side, I know I can get through it. But, without you, I don't know. I just don't know."

Kim's heartfelt confession had caused Ron to be taken aback. They both knew what they meant to each other, but it wasn't something that they had ever verbalized before. It would have been easier to deal with their feelings towards each other if they were both guys or both girls, but the inherent tension between members of the opposite sex had prevented them from doing so. That is, until tonight.

Kim glanced down at her watch and saw that it was now just after midnight. She stifled a yawn, realizing for the first time just how draining her talk with Ron had been. Even still, she could have stayed on that bench until tomorrow night, talking it over with him and answering his questions. But everything that needed to be said had been said, and now he just needed some time to process the information.

So, taking advantage of the lull in the conservation, the redhead got up off the bench and stretched. Her best friend looked up at her, anxiety in his eyes at the prospect that she was leaving. She sat back down, but this time on the edge of the bench to signal to Ron that their time was almost up.

"Look, Ron, I know that this is a lot to get a hold of, and I wish that I could stay longer, but I have to go now. I'm spending the day tomorrow saying my goodbyes to everyone. Lunch with Josh, some afternoon shopping with Mon, and then dinner with the family. I don't suppose you know if you are going to take the offer or not?"

Ron sighed and answered truthfully. "I'm really not sure, Kim. Like you said, it's a lot to take in in one shot. When do I have to make a decision by?"

"You must be at the Middleton Airport no later than midnight tomorrow night. That's twenty-four hours from now. I know that I haven't given you a lot of time, and I would have liked to have told you sooner so that you can make a more informed decision, but with your FBI tail and all, this was the soonest I could do it. I'm sorry."

Ron gave her a blank stare, having lost himself in his thoughts on the matter before him. After a moment, he turned to look at Kim. "What if I say yes? I mean, if I say no, then I just go back to my normal life. But what happens if I say yes?"

At hearing that he was at least contemplating coming with her, Kim broke out into her first genuine smile of the night. She reached into the breast pocket of the trench coat that she was wearing and pulled out an envelope. "If you decide to take the offer, open up that envelope and follow the instructions inside. That's all I can tell you until you're fully on board."

She got up again, this time for good. Ron, sensing that the conversation was over, rose from the bench and looked at her. "Ron, before I go, there's just one thing left that I want to say. You and I have known each other for what amounts to our entire lives. This sitch has forced me to sit down and really think about what that friendship means to me. And, so, I'm going to ask a favor of you. Take the offer and come with me. I know that's a lot to ask, more than I will ever have the right to, but I'm asking it anyway. Take the offer."

Kim then closed the small gap between them and hugged him for all she was worth. And while she was hugging him, she leaned in and whispered in his ear, "But if you don't, always know that you meant the world to me. And you always will." She then kissed him lightly on the cheek, broke the embrace, and headed off down the dark path into the park. In a moment, she was out of sight and Ron was once again alone.

***

How he managed to make it back to his house Ron would never know. He knew that after he saw Kim disappear he sat back down on the bench just staring at the envelope that she had given him. But at what point he had started moving or the route he took to get home were completely lost on him as he remembered that he had not once taken his eyes to the smooth, white front of what amounted to a ticket to another life.

Yet regardless of how he got there, he was now sitting on his bed with the small reading light on his bedside table for the only illumination. He glanced over at the alarm clock that announced to him that it was the ungodly hour of 3:30 in the morning. The blonde knew that his body was screaming for rest, but with his mind in overdrive that was out of the question. 

It was the first chance that he had to just be alone with his thoughts and feelings over all this, and not for the first time that night, he was beginning to wonder if he was equipped to handle the emotional roller coaster that he was on. But out of all the emotions, there were two that were dominant at the moment. Confusion and curiosity. He was confused over what he was going to say to the offer and he was curious as to what was in the envelope. He decided that, if he was unable to lift his confusion, he was at laest able to allay his curiosity. So, he opened the envelope. Inside, there was a typed letter on a single sheet a paper.

_Dear Mr. Stoppable,_

_If you are reading this letter, then I must congratulate you on taking the first step on your new journey. Please be assured that both Her Majesty and myself are immensely pleased that you have decided to help in the protection the British Crown and the rest of the free world. _

_The purpose of this letter is to inform you of the first leg of your journey. As you have no doubt been told by Ms. Possible, you are under strict orders not to discuss this matter with anyone except for Ms. Possible and myself. I must impress upon you that the man you knew as Ronald Dean Stoppable will cease to exist after tomorrow night. With your acceptance of this offer, you forfeit the right to the future use your name, your Social Security Number, or any other identifiable documentation that can prove who you once were. Your new identity will be given to you shortly after contact has been made._

_Although the identity known as Ronald Dean Stoppable will cease to exist, you will not. Therefore, you will be allowed to bring a small bag, no larger than a carry on item, with whatever you choose with you into you new life. Please do not bring clothing or toiletries, as those will be provided for you. Any and all sentimental items that you wish to bring will be subject to approval. Do not bring anything with you that has the name Ronald Stoppable in it or on it, or can be identified with you previous identity in any form. _

_At precisely 11:30 on the evening of Saturday, October 15th, a call will be made to your house. The person on the other end of the line will be the Director of Global Justice, Dr. Betty Director. She will summon you off to a special mission that Global Justice has for Team Possible. Make sure that you are home to accept this phone call. The phone call is your final chance to back out. If you tell the Director that you must decline the mission, we will take that to mean that you are turning down the offer that MI-5 is making. If you tell the Director that you are accepting the mission, you will then proceed to the next stage._

_At this point, you will have a half hour to make it to gate C-1 in the international terminal of the Middleton Airport. Once there, a woman will ask you for the time, and you will respond that it is six in the morning in London. She will then ask to see the letter that you are holding. Once you have given the correct phrase and shown her the letter, your contact will instruct you further._

_Once again, let me congratulate you on accepting our offer. I am aware of the sacrifice that you are making in taking it, but rest assured, that it will not be in vain. I look forward to seeing you in person._

_Sincerely,_

_Sir Basil Covington_

Well, at least he now knew how it would all start, if nothing else. The letter had been very informative about how he was getting to his new life, but it lacked any clues as to what this new life might entail. He reread the letter twice, just to make sure that he gotten everything out of it that he was going to get. He then laid down on his bed and stared up at the ceiling, realizing for the first time that he was soon going to have to choose between his life with his parents and a new life with Kim. Quickly coming to the conclusion that this was not a choice that he wanted to make, he did what all great men do when faced with such a dilemma. He went to sleep with the thought that he would deal with this sitch later.

_Saturday, October 15th 23:04 hours_

Despite the fact that Ron had spent much of the day in his room lost in thought, it was one of the fastest moving days that he could ever remember. How he now found himself with only twenty-six minutes left to make the biggest decision of his life, he wasn't sure, but he was slowly beginning to realize that it didn't matter if it was twenty-six minutes, twenty-six hours, or twenty-six days. The decision would be just as impossible. The only problem was, the issue was about to be forced.

He slowly meandered down from his room where he had been holed up for the entire day except for dinner. He found that both his parents were still up and watching television in the living room. The blonde decided that if he just sat next to them for a little while, maybe some of their wisdom would rub off and he'd find a solution to his problem. 

When Mr. Stoppable heard the slow shuffling of feet enter the living room, he looked up from the movie he was watching to look at his son. His father had been worried about him all day; it just wasn't like Ron to be so down like that. He suspected that it had a lot to do with Kim's sudden disappearance.

The youngest member of the Stoppable household took a seat next to his father, sitting down with a loud sigh. Now Mr. Stoppable was convinced that something was troubling his son, so he put the movie on mute and turned to look at Ron. "Son, are you alright? You've been up in your room all day. What's bothering you?"

Ron returned the gaze from his father, wanting to spill everything he knew about Covington and MI-5 and maybe losing Kim forever. But, he had promised not to, and Ron was a man of his word. Maybe, he could kind of talk around the specifics and get some advice from his father, despite his promise.

"Dad, its about the missions. I know that you and mom aren't thrilled with the fact that I go off with Kim to fight super villains and all but...." and he trailed off into silence.

His father got a knowing look and put his arm around his son's shoulder. "I won't lie to you Ronald. Your mother and I worry a great deal about your safety when you're on a mission, but we realize just how important your work is. And while we wish that you would just be like any other teenager and stay at home, we are proud of the work that you do. There is no doubt that we are all safer because of the job you and Kim do."

Normally, that would have been enough to assuage his doubts, but not tonight. Not with everything riding on the line. So, he pushed the conversation into the one area that there was an unspoken rule about. A rule that said this topic just wasn't to be talked about in the Stoppable household. Ever. 

"But, Dad, what if something were to happen to me on a mission? What if I walk out the door one day to go stop a super villain and I don't come back? How would you feel then?"

Mr. Stoppable certainly wasn't ready for a conversation like this. In the five years that his son had been fighting crime, he had never, not once, brought up the possiblity of his death as a result. In the end, it was probably for the best that the man was caught off guard because he simply told his son what was in his heart.

"Ronald, your mother and I would be devastated. I'm not sure that we could go on after something like that. But, if it happened because you were protecting the innocent from some evil, ensuring that you mother and I and everyone back at home was safe even if for a little while, then we would understand. And be very grateful."

The elder Stoppable then paused for a moment before letting Ron in on a truth that every adult must face one day. "My son, whether or not you choose to continue with you crime fighting is a decision that you have to make. You are a man now, and you must decide these things for yourself. And know that, whatever decision you make, your mother and I will support it."

Ron smiled at both his parents for their sage advice. He still wasn't sure what he was going to tell Dr. Director in the next three minutes, but he was sure that he wasn't going to know until he was on the phone with her and forced to give her an answer. Yet, he now knew that whatever decision he made, his parents would eventually be okay. 

He got up from his seat on the couch next to his father, with a little of the spring back in his step, and hugged him. He then went over to his mother, gave her a kiss, and hugged her too. And just as he was releasing his mother, the phone at the Stoppable residence rang. Ron suddenly felt like a lead weight had formed in his stomach, and he knew that the moment was upon him. 

"Ron, it's for you," he heard his mother call from the kitchen. "Its a woman named Betty Director. That's quite an unusual name," she commented as Ron walked past her and took the phone, not hearing anything after the word 'Ron'.

"Hello?"

"Mr. Stoppable, this is Dr. Director. I am sorry to disturb you at home, but Global Justice requires your assistance on a special mission. Will you accept?"

And with that, Ron took a deep breath, and gave the Director his answer.

***

The entire international terminal of Middleton Airport was completely deserted with the exception of a single flight attendant manning gate C-1 and a rather depressed redheaded girl. She had with her only the clothes on her back and a small black bag. As soon as she had gotten the call, she said goodbye to her parents for the last time (although they didn't know that) and raced out of her old life and into her new one. Kim was already aware that the flight attendant was her (and hopefully their) contact with MI-5, as she had already gone through the identification procedure. That was some ten minutes ago, and now all she had to do was wait until midnight hit and her new life began.

She glanced up at the digital clock in the terminal and saw that it read _11:58_. She sighed, hanging her head, and knowing the decision that Ron had made. If he were coming, he would have been here by now. The redhead silently unzipped her bag and took out one of the few things that she was caring forward with her. It was a picture of her and Ron, the one that she had used for the cover of his Christmas gift last year. He was so shocked when she pounced on him from behind, and she was glad that Monique had been there to capture it. 

She suddenly felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up. It was her contact/flight attendant. "I believe that it is time to get started, as it does not appear that the other interested party is going to show. I am sorry, but if you could grab you bag and follow me please?" And, with that, the contact began walking towards a door marked 'Restricted Access, Authorized Personnel Only.'

It took but a second for Kim to make it to the door and open it. She looked past the threshold and saw a long corridor that her contact was disappearing down, leading to her new life. Then, she allowed herself one last look back into the terminal, to the life that was once led by Kimberly Ann Possible, hoping with all of her might to catch just a glimpse of her friend once more. 

She lingered at the door for one second longer, and it was a decision that she would forever be grateful for. For just as she was about to turn back towards the door, she caught sight of a glimpse of messy blonde hair turning the corner and entering the waiting area for gate C-1. 

Ron Stoppable was going with her.

***

Author's Notes: Sorry there isn't much action in this chapter, but I felt that I had to deal with how Kim and Ron would react to such an offer. Its not the kind of thing one can just go, "Okay, lets do it." It takes some thought, and that's what this chapter is about.

The next chapter should pick up with the action and advance the plot some. Also, on a technical note, although the names Kim Possible and Ron Stoppable are hereby taboo in the world of my story, I will continue to refer to our protagonists by their birth names of Kim and Ron. I am doing this to ease the read for the reader, so that you are not constantly guessing who is who.

Until next time, enjoy chapter three.


	4. Chapter 4: Contact

"Ron!" his redheaded friend yelled from across the terminal. She almost didn't believe the image, that was in front of her that of a young man whose blond hair hung over his eyes, carrying with him a small bag. He looked around the terminal with a confused look on his face, at first not noticing his friend that was standing at the service door. But when he saw the red blur that was headed his way, he broke out into a genuine smile.

Dropping his carry on, he held out his arms to accept Kim into an embrace that nearly knocked him down. He still wasn't sure about the decision that he had made, and was sure that it had been a very close vote in his mind, but feeling his friend in his arms and knowing that she was going to be there for him, now and in the future, began to convince him that he had made the right one.

After a moment, he began to feel uncomfortable holding the embrace for as long as he had and, just like the night before, tried to break it, but it seemed that Kim wanted no part of it. Even when he took his hands off of her back, she refused to let go and what had started out as a simple hug started to become something more. Ron wasn't entirely sure what was going on; perhaps she was just happy that her friend was coming with her, or perhaps the emotions of the moment had gotten caught up with her, or perhaps she simply didn't want to let go of him for fear that if she did he would simply disappear. Or perhaps....

He pushed that though from his mind. As little as twelve hours ago, she had had a relationship, one that Ron was sure would have developed into something quite deep if it weren't for the curveball that life had thrown them. The blond chalked up the experience to an emotional overload and, once the boundaries between the two of them had been reestablished (at least in his mind), he was able to relax, placing his arms once again around the small of her back and stroking her soft hair.

Eventually, the redhead was forced to pull back from her friend, but she still had her arms around him. Ron looked at her and saw that her emerald eyes were glistening with unshed tears, but the smile that she was giving him told him that they were tears of joy. Their eyes met, and the both gave off a few grateful laughs to pass the awkward moment.

"I can't believe you're here. I mean, when midnight came and went and you were nowhere in sight, I was sure that you had told Dr. Director no."

Ron gave her another smile as he cocked his head to one side. "Come on, KP, do you really think that I'd pass up the opportunity to be a real live bon-diggity spy? Besides, without you there to help bail me out of pre-calc, I wasn't going to make it out of Middleton High anyway," he chuckled.

She had to laugh at that. If nothing else in her life was going to remain constant, at least she would always be able to count on a good dose of 'Ron-shine' everyday, courtesy of the blond in front of her. But, as she was enjoying the moment, his face lost its humor and turned serious, which caused her to be taken aback. Kim simply wasn't used to seeing Ron serious about anything, and she began to feel tad anxious.

The blond then moved his hands from Kim's back and placed them on her shoulders, pushing her back slightly so that she was now at arms length. Looking her square in the eyes, he told her in a voice that was almost foreign to her because of the no nonsense tone that it held, "Look, Kim, at some point we're going to have to talk. Now that I'm 'fully on board', as you put it, there are quite a few things that I would like answered about the job offer that I took somewhat on blind faith. I know that now is not the time, but sometime in the near future, we have to sit down and have a conversation."

This put a slight damper on Kim's mood. She was about to say something to him when he let his hands slide down her arms until he was gripping her upper arms. He gave her a soft, reassuring squeeze before he almost whispered to her, "But now is not the time. I think that the next few days are going to be exciting enough. Besides, it looks like our ride is here," he added, gesturing to someone behind Kim.

The redhead turned to see that her contact, noticing that Kim wasn't following along behind her, had come back up into the terminal to see what was going on. When the other woman saw that the other member of Team Possible had arrived, she quickly got down to the business at hand, although her eyes were telling Ron that she was not pleased that he was late. But, he was here now and there was no sense in creating an even bigger delay by criticizing him over his tardiness. "Excuse me, sir, but I was wondering if you had the time?"

Ron gave the contact an excited smile as he replied, "Why, it's six in the morning in London."

The contact nodded and then held out her hand. The blond blinked, momentarily unsure what she was doing, before he realized that she was waiting for him to give her his letter. Reaching down into one of the pockets of his brown cargos, he pulled out the slightly wrinkled piece of paper and handed it over. The woman examined it for a moment before she was satisfied that it was genuine and then quickly pocketed it. "Very good, Mr. Stoppable. If the two of you would please follow me," their contact stated as she once again headed for the service door.

Kim and Ron both looked at each other, grabbed their respective bags, and, taking a deep breath, headed in the same direction as their contact. This time, however, Kim didn't look back as they headed down the hallway and into their new lives. After a few twists and turns, the woman eventually led them into what Kim assumed was a custom's interrogation room. It was small, beige, without any windows and had a table in the middle with three chairs. As their contact began to sit down, she motioned for them to take a seat across from her, which they did.

The woman then reached down and grabbed a manila envelope that had been resting on the floor beside her. Placing it in front of her, she opened it and slid its contents on the table. After collecting what had slid out and placing it neatly before her, she turned her attention to the two teens that were sitting across from her.

"Good evening. As you are now aware, I am your first contact with MI-5. My job here is simple. I'm to ensure that neither of you have anything on you that can be identified with your former selves and to get you to your next location. We are running a little behind schedule right now, so I suggest we begin. Please empty the contents of your pockets onto the table, and then open your carry on bags for inspection."

Both members of Team Possible did as they were told. Most of it was standard fare, loose change and such, but both teens had to turn over the entire contents of their wallets which were then placed the manila envelope. When their contact was satisfied that they were clean, she turned her attention to their luggage. She spent a few minutes going over what Kim had brought, which consisted almost entirely of pictures. Their contact then opened up Ron's bag, and was surprised by what she found inside. She had been doing this job for nearly seven years and had never come across anything quite like what the blond was trying to bring with him.

"Umm, Mr. Stoppable, what is that?" she asked pointing into the bag at something that Kim couldn't see. Just as Ron was leaning over to peer into his bag at what his contact was pointing at, the redhead noticed something small and pink pop up from the inside, stretching as if he had just been woken up.

"Rufus!" Kim cried out as she scooped up the naked mole rat and brought him to her face. The little guy was very confused as to what was going on, but he was happy to see his second favorite person in the world and readily hugged her back. The teen heroine then placed him back on the table and turned to Ron. "Why didn't you tell me that you were going to bring him along?" she asked her partner with a smile.

The blond was about to say something in response when their contact interrupted him. "Mr. Stoppable, why did you feel it necessary to bring that with you? We really don't allow pets past the screening process because you simply aren't going to have anytime to take care of your pet _rat_."

That last little bit was said with quite a bit of disdain for the third field member of Team Possible, which he took great offense to. Nothing got Rufus' fur up (that is, if he had any fur) faster than being called a rat. He turned to the rude woman, placed his hands on his hips, and began chattering angrily at her in a language that only Ron, and sometimes Kim, could understand. His blond owner, sensing that this was not the best time for Rufus to have his nose bent out of shape, quickly grabbed his little friend and placed him in his home away from home, one of the pockets in Ron's cargos.

The naked mole rat was not happy at being brushed off like that, and he let everyone know by crossing his arms and giving off a tiny 'humph'. Ron ignored him, however, and focused his attention on his contact with a cross between an apologetic and a pleading look.

"Sorry about that, its just that he hates it when people call him a rat," Ron offered. The other woman did not look amused, however, and simply raised an eyebrow in response to Ron explanation. Undaunted, he pressed forward. "Look, I know that it's a little unorthodox to take a naked mole rat with me, but Rufus is just as much a part of Team Possible as I am. He's been on almost every mission, and has made significant contributions to the team. We simply would not be as effective without him."

Kim had to stifle an amused laugh. She was certain that she needed Ron with her on the missions, but the idea that Team Possible was not as good without Rufus? It struck her as implausible that the little guy made that great an impact on their success, and under any other circumstances she would have gently questioned her friend's ascertains as to Rufus' skill, but it was apparent that Ron was trying to justify why the MI-5 agent should allow his pet to come with him. So, she decided to keep quiet for the moment, and if necessary, attest to the fact that the naked mole rat played a vital role on the team. Even if it was only for her friend.

Thankfully, it wasn't necessary. Since they were all ready running late and the agent couldn't think of any way that his pet could be tied back to the Ron Stoppable identity, she acquiesced and told Ron that he could bring Rufus along with him. This earned her a very grateful 'boo-yah' as Rufus, who realized that he was out of hot water, climbed up onto the teen's shoulder so that he could find out what was going on. And now that the matter was settled, their contact continued with their instructions.

"You can take your bags back now," the MI-5 agent told them as she sat back down. Both teens grabbed their luggage, placed it underneath the table, and once again took their seats. "Now that we're sure both of you are clean, I must stress once again that you are no longer Kim Possible and Ron Stoppable. Back in the terminal, you were still using you old names. That needs to stop immediately and you need to start getting in the habit of not using them anymore."

Both teens nodded their understanding, but the reality of the situation sit hadn't hit home for either one of them yet. They were simply too anxious and too curious as to what awaited them in the next few days to have stopped and thought about the other side of the coin. But, through the haze of excitement, a thought did occur to Kim.

"If I'm no longer Kim Possible, then just who am I? And what about Ron?"

The agent then picked up two of the things that she had originally taken out of the manila envelope and held them up so that both Kim and Ron could see what it was that she was holding. It was two clear plastic packages that held two sets of British passports with matching international driver's licenses and credit cards. She then tossed each respective set to each new MI-5 agent, who then readily opened the packet to take a look at the passports. Or, more specifically, the names on the passports.

Kim quickly flipped open hers and scanned the page that contained her picture and biographical information. Then her eyes came to rest on the one piece on information that she was looking for and she gave off a quick laugh. The redhead then turned and looked at Ron who held an equally bemused look. They both looked at each other for a moment, each waiting for the other to go first, before Ron finally broke the stalemate.

"Well?"

"Karen Thompson. You?"

"Henry Wallace. It's very nice to meet you, Karen," Ron joked, while extending his hand in a mock introduction.

Kim laughed and then shook his hand while joining in on the joke, "Why, thank you, and it's very nice to meet you too Henry."

Their contact, having been through quite a number of these, was not used to doing it with a pair of teens and was thus not amused by their giddy antics. Clearing her throat to regain control of the meeting, she waited until she once again had Kim and Ron's undivided attention before continuing. "The credit cards that you now have in your possession come with a £25,000.00 limit, but don't go crazy. I know that this is your first introduction to credit, so remember that you will have to justify every purchase that you make on them until you are paying the bills yourself."

Ron just let his jaw go slightly slack at the thought that he now owned a credit card, and especially one with such a high limit. Before tonight, he had thought that $250.00 was a large sum of money but now... Plus, he suddenly realized that the credit was in pounds and not dollars, which made it even larger sum. He blinked once, coming back from his momentary daze, and looked back at the little piece of plastic like it had suddenly turned into gold.

Kim, however, had a different take on her new found financial freedom. "Umm, excuse me, but don't you need to be at least eighteen to own a credit card?"

The agent smiled, gratified that at least one of them was able to catch it before she had to point it out to them. "Karen, why don't you take a look at your passport again. More specifically, your birth date."

The redhead glanced back down at the document in front of her and scanned for her birthday. At first, she wasn't sure what her contact was talking about as it was the same date that she had had in her previous life. Then she noticed that the year had been changed from 1988 to 1987. She gently nudged Ron, who looked over at her, then looked down at her passport when she pointed to it. At first, he wasn't sure what she was getting at, but after a moment, he realized that he had just aged an entire year in the span of an hour. "I don't understand, why age us a year?"

"Because it is much more expedient than leaving you two as minors. Fewer questions are asked of an eighteen year old than of a minor, and right now we don't want to attract any attention to the two of you." She waited a moment to see if they had any further questions before continuing. "There is one last thing that we need to discuss before you go on to your next location. Your code names."

Now this was the part that Ron was really looking forward to. Kim might have been more interested in their new everyday names, but Ron, who had seen just about every spy movie ever made, imagined all sorts of cool code names. Perhaps it would be along the lines of James Bond, with his trademark 007. Or maybe he would end up being Mountaineer like Sidney Bristow in Alias. There were literally millions of different possibilities to choose from and the fact that it was real, not just some fantasy, made him all the more excited.

The agent opened a folder that had been the only other contents of the manila envelope that had contained their new documentation and looked over its contents quickly. "We've done extensive research on your background, and in consultation with Sir Basil, we have chosen code names that we believe you will be able to easily remember. Ms. Thompson, your code name is Blue Fox."

Upon hearing her code name, Kim broke out into a big smile and looked over at Ron, who wore a matching one. "Sweet, what a spanking code name, KP. The Blue Fox." Then his expression went from excitement to one of contemplation, as if some important piece of information was on the tip of his tongue but he couldn't get it out. "Blue fox, blue fox... Where have I heard that before? Hmmm.... Wait, I remember, it's from Animalogy. But if you're the blue fox, then that makes me...Oh, no," Ron almost wailed as his dreams of a super-cool code name vanished with the realization of what his was going to be.

Their contact seemed unfazed, however, at Ron's sudden change of feelings towards the subject. "Mr. Wallace, your code name will be Pink Sloth. These code names will not be used unless it is for official business of MI-5, and only then on missions. There can be no link between your civilian identities and your code names."

Kim nodded her understanding, but Ron had missed the last few seconds of conversation, having placed his face in his hands, wallowing in the prospect that a silly teen fad would be following him around for the rest of his life. Finally, he came back out of his moment of self-pity with a resigned sigh. "Well, maybe I can go by some variation of Pink Sloth. How's Mr. S strike you?" he asked Kim.

His friend responded with a Cheshire cat grin and a shake of her head. "Nope, sorry, but protocol is protocol. It's Pink Sloth for you from now on," she said with a slight giggle.

Their contact was now thoroughly exhausted from dealing with the two teen heroes. From everything that she had heard, they really were the best, but on a personal level, they were still just garden variety seventeen-year-olds, which made her job all the more exasperating. But, now that they were nearing the end of her stage of the transition, all she wanted to do was to pass them off to the next agent.

"Good. Now that that's all settled, its time to get moving again. Your transportation is waiting for you."

"What exactly is the next leg of the journey?" Kim asked.

"From here, you will go down to the tarmac where a Gulfstream IV is waiting to take you to Vancouver. We want to route you through another country before your final destination. Once in Vancouver, head to the VIP counter of British Airways. You will find tickets for you under the names of Karen Thompson and Henry Wallace. If anyone asks, you were on vacation in British Columbia and are returning home. Give out as little information as possible, and do nothing to attract attention to yourselves. Once at your final destination, your names will be called over the PA system to report to a designated spot. Once there, someone will ask you for the time again, and you will respond by saying that it is two in the afternoon in the states. He will then ask if that is New York or Los Angles time and you will respond that it is Chicago time. This is your identification procedure with your next contact, and he will answer any questions from there."

Once the agent was done speaking, she stood up from the table. Taking the hint, both Ron and Kim grabbed their carry-on and stood up as well. The agent then walked over to the door and headed back out into the hallway, with Kim and Ron following right behind. Soon, she had led them to an emergency door that, once it was opened, revealed the tarmac of Middleton Airport with a private jet parked as close to the door as it could get.

Kim and Ron started to head for the door when the agent placed a hand on Kim's shoulder, shouting to her one last piece of advice. "Good luck, you two. Just follow procedure and everything will be alright." She smiled at them and then stepped aside so that they could continue on.

But just as Kim was about to walk out the door, a question came to her. Turning back, she was forced to yell it over the noise of the exterior of the international airport so that the agent was able to hear her. "By the way, what is our final destination?"

The agent looked at her for a second, and then leaned in so that she could say it softly so that no one would hear but Kim and Ron.

"London."

* * *

Author's Notes: Thanks to all who reviewed. Unknown6, please do not stop until "The Heretic" is done. I need to know if Ron saves Kim and if they get together. And, yes, part of the idea for this story was inspired by it. In almost every story I've read, the US government is either not in the picture or supportive of Team Possible, but in yours they're not. It was a piece of the puzzle that is this story. And, I really appreciate the offer, which I will most definitely take you up on. That'll probably not happen for a few chapters, though. In the mean time, thanks for the review.

Stardog, I debated for a long time whether to keep Rufus or not, and I came to no conclusion so he's coming along for now. Whether or not he survives is another matter, however…

Jezrianna, I wasn't aware of the difference, I always thought that either spelling was correct and I just preferred 'blonde'. I will go back and change that. Also, on you suggestion, I'm going to rework the scene in Chapter 1 to reflect something more realistic. Thanks.

Imajicka1, I am really glad you felt the emotional states of characters were real. I'm always worried that my incarnations of Kim and Ron will end up like cartoon characters and not real people like I want them to be. Thanks.

Yamal, Mr. Elliot, Ace, Geog-sama thanks for the words of encouragement.

Karen Thompson and Henry Wallace, huh? Well, the next stop for Kim and Ron is London where they're going to meet up with Covington and another emotional event is going to happen for them, something they thought they were ready for but seeing it live on TV shows that they were not.

Until next time, enjoy Chapter 4.


	5. Chapter 5: Hereford

_Sunday 21:42 Local Time_

As the wheels to British Airways Flight 742 made contact with the runway at London's Heathrow Airport, Kim couldn't suppress the slight feeling of disappointment that was welling up inside of her at the thought that the flight was over. On her missions, she had always seen their transportation as nothing more than a means to an end, a method to get them to the job and back. Usually, this involved some sort of uncomfortable arrangement, like spending six hours in the incredibly tight cockpit of a super-sonic fighter or sandwiched in between troops on a C-17. In the end, she was either anxious to get the mission started or get home to her normal life and saw the traveling as one of the worst parts of her job.

_"But if we had been traveling like this for each mission, I probably wouldn't have minded it so much,"_ she thought with a small smile. After a quick flight to Vancouver, they were able to easily secure their tickets for the ten hour flight across the pond. The ticket agent had informed them that their flight would be boarding in about an hour and asked them if they wanted to wait in the VIP lounge. From there, it had been nothing but first class service all the way, and Kim found that she could get quite used to the specialized treatment.

Ron, however, was much more low key about the whole experience. At first, he was just as impressed as Kim was but, for a man who regularly shops at Smarty Mart, the novelty quickly wore off. The redhead, who was currently sitting next to him, turned away from her view out the right side window to look at her best friend. She was forced to suppress a smile as she once again watched him sleep peacefully. The 747 hadn't even leveled off at cruising altitude before he was out cold, and Kim had taken the time to get a better look at the blond.

The events of the past two weeks had played havoc with more then just her life. Being forced to evaluate what the people in her life really meant to her had caused more than a bit of an emotional turmoil for her, especially when it came to her feelings for Ron. She knew that she needed him in her life no matter what, but what role did she want him to play in this new one that she was creating?

The option for them to become something more than just friends simply was never an option as far as she was concerned. If they did start to date, and things went south for them, then their friendship would be ruined for good and that friendship was the single most important thing in her life. She tried once to imagine what life would be like if she didn't have Ron in it and Kim realized that, for the girl who could do anything, that was one thing she couldn't do. So, with her mind made up that she wouldn't jeopardize what she had, the possibility of something more with Ron never came up.

But now, things were different. The two of them had been thrust into a sitch where the only person who they could ever let get close would be each other. In the back of her mind, she was beginning to really think through the ramifications of the choice that she had made, and one of them was that she would never be able to allow someone else into her life. She might be able to date people, but a husband? A family? They were now out of the question. Not that she was looking for that at the age of seventeen, but at some point in her life she knew that that would be what she would want.

And she had given it all up for Ron. The redhead had a great amount of difficulty in admitting it to even herself, but the decision to accept Covington's offer had been easier for her than she let on. Since the age of five, she had cried only twice. Once was because she had feared that Ron was seriously hurt or even dead after her went to stop Draken Christmas Eve two years ago and the other had been two nights ago when she wasn't sure if she would ever see Ron again. If that was the case, that she showed that level of emotion for Ron, then what was it that her heart was telling her that she wasn't getting? If she had forsaken the possibility of having a family of her own so that she could be with Ron, what exactly was it that she wanted from him? And now that new options had opened up to her, the question still remained. What part was Ron to play in her new life now that it was just the two of them?

Thankfully, the problem was once again placed on hold as the captain announced that they had finished taxiing to the gate and that the passengers could remove their seatbelts. The noise and commotion that ensued was enough to wake the sleeping blond that was sitting next to Kim. He stretched and yawned, going through the standard wake-up motions, and looked around the cabin until his eyes rested upon Kim.

"Hey, what's going on?" he half smiled, half yawned at his partner.

"We're here," she said, returning the smile with a gesture towards the front of the cabin where the flight attendant was opening the hatch. They grabbed their carry-ons and disembarked, climbing the jet way into the terminal at Heathrow. Each took in the surroundings of the international terminal and decided the best thing to do was head to customs. While Ron was quietly slipping Rufus into one of the pockets in his cargos, Kim suddenly began to feel a little anxious. She looked down at her new British passport and realized that it had never been tested on a real customs agent. What if it didn't work?

The redhead didn't have anytime to worry about it, however, as she soon found herself at the front of the line. She just kept staring at the woman agent that she had handed her passport over to and found herself mumbling some sort of response when she was asked if she enjoyed her stay in Canada.

But, Kim had no cause to worry as the agent stamped her document, handed it back to her, and welcomed her home. She stepped through into what she dimly realized was her new home as she watched a much more relaxed Ron breeze through the check-in and mentally noted that she was going to have to work on her reaction in such situations if she was ever going to pull off being a freelance spy.

Once Ron had caught up with her, the blond gave her a look as if to say what now, which was returned with a shrug. They both knew that they were waiting for the announcement over the PA system, but were unsure of how long it was going to be before contact was made. As they wandered through the terminal, unsure of what to do next, Ron caught sight of a pub and suggested that while they wait they sample some of the local English ale. Kim, however, though that this was an incredibly bad idea and was just about to give Ron the reasons why when the announcement that they were waiting for put an end to their argument before it had even begun.

The announcement directed them to the Avis booth in the parking lot reserved for rental cars. Unfortunately, it took them a little longer than was anticipated because the two agents weren't familiar with the layout of Heathrow. Twenty minutes after the initial announcement, they had finally made it to the designated spot only to find the parking lot completely deserted. Just as they were beginning to wonder if their contact had simply left, assuming that they were not going to show, a black sedan pulled up in front of them.

The driver lowered the power window and gave them a quick glance before he proceeded to ask them for the time. Kim gave the first part of the identification protocol while Ron gave the second and suddenly the locks to the back door of the sedan popped open. Taking their cue, the two teens got in the back of what Ron thought was a mirror image of what the interior of a car should look like. _"Guess I'm going to have to get used to things being backwards for awhile,"_ the blond thought with a smirk.

The rest of the ride was passed in silence as Kim and Ron were content to watch out the windows as they left Heathrow and headed out into the English countryside. It didn't take long before Ron had once again fallen asleep and his soft snoring brought an amused smile to his friend's lips before a thought occurred to her. Their contact in Middleton had said that the final destination was London but it seemed as though they had left the city far behind and were headed somewhere else. She asked the driver for their destination and he responded with a single word, Hereford.

This caused the redhead to raise an eyebrow. Hereford was the home to the British Special Air Service, the equivalent to the US Navy's SEALs. There were a number of questions that she wanted to ask her driver, but his manner and the way in which he said 'Hereford' suggested to Kim that he wasn't the type to engage in conversation. So, she slumped back into her seat, giving up a silent prayer that some of her questions were going to be answered soon.

It wasn't long before the car pulled onto the military base and only five minutes after that before it stopped in front of a somewhat isolated airplane hanger. Feeling the car come to a stop, Ron woke up just in time to see the driver get out of the car and enter the hanger through a regular door set in the larger double hanger doors. The two partners grabbed their stuff and, exiting the car, followed their driver.

Inside was exactly what Kim had expected the airplane hanger to be except there were no planes to be seen. The arched ceiling must have been at least fifteen stories high at the center with powerful halogen lamps hanging at regular intervals. The concrete floor extending for several football fields with absolutely nothing to break up the monotonous grey expanse until the other end of the hanger. It was difficult to make out at this distance, but Kim thought she saw a desk with two chairs and a person sitting behind it.

Before she had a chance to say anything, their driver, who had been waiting for them just inside the door, spoke up. "Mr. Wallace, if you would please follow me. Ms. Thompson, why don't you go have a seat," he offered as he gestured towards the far end of the hanger. Kim, whose attention had been diverted from the driver to the desk, looked back at the man once more before noticing that he was leading Ron over towards a corner of the hanger that had been partitioned off by what looked like a medical divider. She just stood there, watching her best friend head in that direction with a slight worry stirring inside of her, when the blond looked over his shoulder and gave her a small smile. Feeling a little better, the redhead then began walking in the direction that the driver indicated.

As the former cheerleader got closer to the her destination, she was able to see that she was correct in that there was a desk with chairs at the other end of the hanger. She was also able to tell that it was in fact a man that was sitting behind the desk, one that she was able to recognize from her initial meeting some two weeks ago. She smiled, and was just about to exchange greetings when a rather loud yelp came from the other end of the hanger followed by Ron's voice. "Damnit, man, that hurts!"

Kim, with her initial feeling of apprehension returning with a vengeance, quickly turned and was about to dash back to where Ron was when the man behind the desk spoke out. "Kimberly, wait!" That caught her attention. Since everything had started some twenty hours ago and with all the admonishments to no longer use her birth name, the redhead shifted gears again and looked back. The man had gotten up from his place behind the desk and had walked around it, so that he was now only a few feet from the teen.

Kim, unsure of exactly what to do, said the first thing that came to her mind. "Mr. Covington, you really shouldn't be calling me that anymore," she chastised her new employer.

Upon hearing her reprimand, Basil Covington broke out into a smile. He liked his field agents to have a strong independent streak and was glad to see that that was what he was getting with Team Possible, even if it was only on a subconscious level. He stood there for a moment, congratulating himself once more on successfully recruiting what he hoped would become a powerful tool in the British Counter-Intelligence and Counter-Terrorism arsenal, but he quickly remembered that there was work to be done, and self aggrandizement wasn't on the schedule for the night.

"Just one of the perks of being the boss. But, you are correct and I apologize. Now, come, sit down. Mr. Wallace is doing just fine and will be joining us shortly," he tried to soother her as he led her away from where Ron was being kept and over towards one of the chairs in front of his desk.

It wasn't long before Kim could hear two sets of footsteps heading in her direction and she turned to look, seeing that both Ron and the driver were walking towards her. As the blond came into view, it became clear to Kim that whatever had happened had put him in quite the foul mood as he plopped down in his seat with a scowl on his face. He was staring intently at Covington and if looks could kill, the MI-5 agent would be six feet under right now.

The redhead was about to say something to her friend, but he beat her to the punch. "Don't worry about it KP, I'm fine," he growled, his tone of voice and body language indicating that he was anything but. He then nodded in Covington's direction asking with a large amount of sarcasm, "Is this the way you treat all your guests or did I just get the VIP treatment?"

It was then that Kim noticed that there was a two inch square piece of gauze taped to the back of his neck that had not been there a few minutes ago. In a flash, she was out of her chair and behind him to get a better look at what had happened to him because she needed to make sure that he was alright, despite earlier reassurances from her employer. The redhead began to gingerly peel back part of the bandage and revealed that someone had made a small, quarter inch incision in Ron's neck.

She gently replaced the bandage and looked up at Covington who was now talking with the driver in hushed tones so that Kim couldn't make out most of what they were saying. The redhead did see the driver hand Covington something in a small plastic vial and heard the elder man ask if it was still operational. When the driver nodded, her employer then told him that he knew what to do with it, handed it back to him, and the driver left.

With whatever matter it was that he was dealing with disposed of, Covington was able to turn his attention back to the two members of Team Possible. "I understand that Rufus attacked our medic back there," he said with a smile.

Ron, however, was not amused. "You're lucky _I_ didn't attack the goddamn medic back there. You could have told me what it was that you were doing, which, by the way, no one has yet to do. And has MI-5 not heard of the _revolutionary_ new medical advancement known as local anesthetic?"

Kim wasn't able to fully stifle the laugh at Ron's bit of sarcasm as she took her seat on the blond's left. Covington, however, wasn't phased in the slightest, his smile never wavering. "Well, Mr. Wallace, it was necessary to remove the tracking chip that your Wade had so thoughtfully placed in your neck as a means of keeping track of you. That is, unless you want him informing the entire staff of Global Justice what it is that the two of you are up to, hmm?"

The teen didn't respond to his employer but he did give his friend a narrowed, sideways glance, the unspoken communication between the two being a sardonic "Thanks, KP." Kim was now feeling a small amount of guilt over the matter; after all, it was her that had insisted that Wade put the thing in Ron in the first place as a measure of security and for Kim's own piece of mind.

But it didn't really matter; what was done, was done, and now it was time to move onto other things. Covington then took the two manila folders that were in front of him, opened then, and then cleared his throat. "Well, then, I guess we should get down to business, shall we? Ms. Thompson has already met me once, but I believe introductions are in order for Mr. Wallace here. I am Sir Basil Covington, and I will be your primary contact with MI-5."

The MI-5 agent then stretched out his hand and Ron, who was still grumbling a little from the injury inflicted upon him, took it reluctantly. Covington, it seemed, wasn't about to let anything get to him and, with a resigned sigh, the blond decided to give up his anger over the removal of the tracking chip and get down to business.

"Now, first things first. Please hand over your passports," he ordered with an outstretched hand. When he had gotten both documents, he continued, "Alright. The reason I have confiscated your passports is that the pictures that are inside of them will no longer be current after tomorrow. The two of you are getting a make-over of sorts."

The thought of having certain aspects of his appearance changed didn't affect Ron in the slightest, but Kim was instantly put on the defensive at the prospect of have her look changed. "Umm, is that really necessary? I mean, why changing anything at all? To be perfectly honest with you, it's my name that's famous not my face. You wouldn't believe the number of people who have no idea who I am until I tell them my name. So, I don't think there is any reason for us to change anything about our appearance," Kim pleaded.

Covington just shook his head. "Karen, in two days, your face, along with Henry's here, is going to be plastered on every television, newspaper, and magazine from Middleton to Mars. The last thing we need is for some little old lady to spot you walking down the street and phone in that she saw the missing girl on the tele. Sorry, but for the conceivable future, an appearance change is necessary."

Kim, who was struggling mightily to find a reason, any reason, why she could keep her gorgeous red tresses, was coming up empty. She just sat there for a moment, her mouth agape, when finally Ron stepped in. "What exactly did you have in mind when you said make-over?" the blond inquired.

"Well, for Ms. Thompson here, we're going to shorten the length of her hair to about neck length. Contact lenses to change her eye color from green to blue. And a set of oval framed glasses, no prescription of course. Oh, and how do you feel about being a blonde?"

At the thought that her beautiful ginger hair would be bleached into some horrid yellow all the color drained from Kim's face, which earned her a round of laughter from both Ron and Covington. Her friend, who knew first hand what it was like to be a blond, put his arm around the soon-to-be-former redhead. "Don't worry, KP, being a blonde isn't all that bad," he consoled, still unable to suppress all of his laughter. "Besides, you know what they say, blondes have more fun."

Kim just looked at him as if he had just told her that Bonnie being the captain of the cheer squad wouldn't be all that bad. And, although the prospect of such a radical appearance change was quite unsettling, the heroine was a pro, quickly regaining her composure, turned her attention back to Covington. "So if I'm going blonde, what happens to Henry here? I'd like to suggest that he get pink hair to match his code name," she added with a smirk.

It was returned with a raspberry from her friend and another round of laughter from Covington. "No, Henry here isn't going pink but rather black. He gets to keep his eye color but he'll also get a set of decorative eyewear, although from what I'm told, they might need to be made prescription sometime in the future due to your slight stigmatism. And, you also have an appointment with a dermatologist; we're removing your freckles."

Now it wasn't so funny anymore. The procedure to remove his freckles sounded a lot more invasive than a simply dye job and, although he wasn't nearly as attached to them as Kim was to her hair color, the idea of losing them was not sitting well with the blond. "How exactly are they going to remove them?"

"Oh, it's a simple laser procedure. Don't worry, its not like it's going to hurt that much."

"That much?! Don't you think that I've already suffered enough for the cause?" emphasizing his point by pointing to the back of his neck.

Covington just shrugged his shoulders as if the whole matter was no big deal. "What can I say? The appearance altering protocol was put in place for your protection, Mr. Wallace and compliance with it is non-negotiable." He then interlocked his fingers and placed his hands on the desk in front of him, staring intently at Ron. The teen, who still wasn't too keen on the idea, took the hint that there wasn't going to be any more discussion on this topic and remained silent.

After a moment passed and Covington was sure that the message had gotten across, he continued with the briefing in a tone that indicated that it was time to get serious. "Good. Now then, before we offered you this opportunity, a review of your activities was conducted and psychological profiles compiled on both of you. First, let me say that for your level of skill and ability, your track record is simply outstanding."

Ron, for whom praise for his efforts with Team Possible was few are far between, beamed at Covington, completely missing the qualifier that he had added into his complement. Kim, however, didn't. "Just what do you mean by 'for our level of skill'?"

"Let's face facts, shall we, Ms. Thompson? You've done some good work, but its time to take your game to the next level. You excel at close quarters combat, but have no experience with weaponry. You can think on your feet but are forced to rely way too heavily on intelligence and support from Wade. The two of you show a lot of promise, but right now you're green. Thus, we have designed a training program to get the two of you up to speed."

The prospect of advanced training had piqued Kim's interest. "What exactly did you have in mind?"

"The training program is designed to last three years. Think of it as college for the young spy, only you can forget about the cake-walk intro classes. We've designed a program that will, when we are done, have the both of you fully up to speed in terms of what we expect you to be able to do. The training will consist of weapons experience, offensive driving, flight school, surveillance techniques, stealth training, and all manner of other fun stuff."

Covington then turned to one of the manila folders and focused his attention on Kim. "Now, in addition to the generic training that the two of you are going to be receiving, we have put together specialized training programs for each of you that complement your natural skill sets. For example, according to your assessment, Ms. Thompson, you excel at technical areas, so you will be receiving additional training in computer hacking, ordinance use, and will receive more specialized flight training. You also excel in hand-to-hand combat, so your combat training will include advanced courses in this area."

The MI-5 agent then closed Kim's folder and turned to Ron's. "You, Mr. Wallace, have a gift for languages so, while Ms. Thompson here will get basic training in a few European languages, you will be receiving intensive work in, let me see...French, German, Spanish, Arabic, Cantonese, and Russian. We might add more later but for right now, that's good enough. In addition to the languages, you will also be learning the customs of the different regions so that you and Ms. Thompson here will be able to blend into the background no matter where you are in the world. Its also been determined that you will be better at long range weapons, thus you will be spending some time at our sniper school."

"Now for the bad news. At present, you are somewhat behind Ms. Thompson in certain areas and critically behind her in others. Thus, while Ms. Thompson's day will begin eight in the morning, yours will begin at six for some additional physical training and you will be going for two more hours each night than Karen for remedial martial arts training. This will continue until you have successfully caught up with her, which we estimate to take sometime between nine months and a year."

The two teen heroes took the news in stride, although Ron wasn't all that thrilled with having to put in four extra hours a day more than Kim. Still, he had to admit to himself that he needed it and he would put in the time enthusiastically, if for nothing else than for Kim's safety. Covington then handed over to them the folders that contain more detailed information on what they could expect in their training and the two of them instantly began reviewing the information given to them.

"These are some spanking courses compared to the ones we were taking at Middleton High! I mean, I'm pretty sure we didn't have the choice of taking 'Beginning Tactical Training' as one of our electives, KP. Even if Barkin got his way," the blond joked.

Kim, however, didn't laugh in return. Instead, she closed the file on her training and turned to look at Ron, with her 'Ron-you're-my-friend-but-you-had-better-listen-to-what-I'm-about-to-say' look. "You just called me KP, and I noticed that you did it several other times since Middleton. I should have said something about it before, but you have got to stop calling me that. It goes with my old name, not my new one."

Ron looked a little hurt and was about to say something in reply when Covington stepped in. "Actually, Henry can continue to call you that. Part of the psychological profile on him suggested that, while he would be able to conform to all other aspects of your new identities, the use of the term 'KP' was so ingrained into his subconscious that there is less than a 6% chance he will ever stop using it. Thus, it was built into your new identity."

Kim and Ron just looked at the MI-5 agent with amazed and confused looks until Kim voiced the question that both of them had. "Umm, if my name is Karen Thompson, wouldn't that make me 'KT' instead of 'KP'?"

"If you had taken a closer look at your passport, you would have noticed that your name is not Karen Thompson. In fact, it is Karen Paula Thompson. The 'KP' now stands for Karen Paula not Kim Possible. So, he can keep using it."

Upon hearing that his nickname for her wasn't going to be taboo, Ron gave off a hearty 'Boo-yah!' and gave a high-five to Rufus, who had been listening to the entire conservation from his spot in Ron's cargos. Even Kim allowed herself a small smile because she secretly got a little thrill whenever he called her that. After a moment to allow them to absorb that piece of good news, Covington quickly brought the conversation back on track.

"Okay, that's enough for tonight. The driver will take you now from here to a flat that we have setup for you in downtown London where there will be a small dinner awaiting you. And, I'm sorry Mr. Wallace, but its small by a regular person's standards not yours, so if you wish, there is a small allotment of pounds in the flat as well with which you can get something else to eat. Feel free to explore the surrounding neighborhood, but if I were you, I'd get a good night's sleep. I'll be up to see you at 9am sharp."

With that, Covington rose from his spot behind the desk and motioned to the other end of the hanger where their driver was waiting. They collected their belongings, including the folders containing their training information, and headed off to the other end for the drive into London. When the two teen heroes had disappeared, the MI-5 agent then pulled out a cell phone and hit the third speed dial. It was answered quickly by a member of MI-5 who was responsible for creating new identities for compromised agents.

"Is everything in place?...Good, and the tracking chip, its still working?...How long until they find the bodies?...That quickly? I guess Wade is as efficient as they say he is. No matter, I will inform the Prime Minister...No, I haven't told them yet...Because after tonight there's no going back, plus I don't want them thinking that there is something that they can do about it...Look, don't worry about it, I'm the one that's got to tell them and show them on the goddamn tele...Alright, let me know when its done."

Covington then terminated the call to his fellow MI-5 agent and rubbed his free hand over his face. Tomorrow, he was going to have to do the hardest thing about his job, the one thing he really hated about it. It had been his experience that new agents to existing compromised agents that needed new identities never had a good emotional reaction to the final part of disappearance protocol, even if it was for the best.

Still, regardless of their reaction, tomorrow, bright and early, the two members of Team Possible were going to find out that Kim Possible and Ron Stoppable had died in a plane crash the night before.

* * *

Author's Notes: Thanks to everyone who reviewed. If you read the A/N at the end of chapter 4 I hinted that MI-5 would be faking Kim & Ron's death in this chapter, but by the time I got to the point where we are now, the chapter would have spiraled out of control in length, so I cut it off here.

I might have portrayed Covington as light-hearted, but trust me, he's can be one tough son-of-a-bitch if need be. He's being very relaxed here because he knows that he's going to hit Kim and Ron with something pretty hard the next day, so why not get them as comfortable as possible? At least, that's his attitude.

Upcoming chapters will include their reaction to their 'deaths' followed by a chapter that is a montage of the training that they are going to go through. After Chapter 7, then we begin to approach the start of Team Possible's first mission after joining MI-5.

Until then, enjoy Chapter 5


	6. Chapter 6: On Behalf of a Greatful Natio

The blond in the back of the car had finally come to the conclusion that there was simply nothing good to see in looking at the English countryside at night. They were about halfway to their destination, a few kilometers outside of Oxford, and from what Ron could tell, the farms in Britain were almost identical to the ones that he had seen growing up in suburban Colorado. He was dying to delve back into the folder that contained some of the answers to his questions, but there was little illumination to read by and the driver had all ready yelled at him once for trying to turn on the car's internal light.

Ron gave off a sigh, as much from his boredom as from his frustration, and turned away from the view out his window. He leaned back in his seat, allowing his head to roll back on his neck and come to stop on the headrest behind him, and closed his eyes. He sat there for a moment, wishing that he could simply sleep away the time until London, but the combination of all the rest he had gotten since leaving Middleton coupled with the excitement over his first meeting with Covington prevented him from achieving the peace that he desired.

In the end, he gave up on the endeavor and, opening his chocolate eyes, blew a stray lock of messy blond hair that had fallen over his forehead out of his face in a show of irritation. He turned his attention from an inward focus to an outward one, allowing his senses to survey the world around him. It was then that he noticed a faint sound coming from his left and he looked over at his best friend for the first time in half an hour. At some point between Hereford and Oxford the redheaded beauty had drifted off and her breathing had slipped into that soft, heavy rhythm of sleep.

The teen hero watched her for a moment as his goofy smile began to take on a dreamy quality to it. It was his favorite guilty pleasure, watching Kim sleep, and he relished every chance he got because not many opportunities presented themselves for him to engage in this pastime. In the gentle moonlight, he could see that her features had taken on a content quality, as the tumultuous whirlwind of cheerleading, missions, boys, and fashion that was her life dissipated and all that was left was his best friend of so many years.

The part about Kim that he favored the most when she was like this was that she seemed to allow herself a small, ever-present smile when in the embrace of sleep. The blond always wondered what it was exactly that she dreamt about, for it seemed to him that she never had an unpleasant one. _"Probably Josh,"_ he thought with a depressed sigh, his smile faltering a little. _"Never fails to amaze me just how much she thinks about him. She's probably picturing herself on a date with him right now."_

As his thoughts drifted down this unpleasant line of thought, his subconscious betrayed him as in his mind's eye he began to imagine such a hypothetical date. His smile was replaced by that of a scowl as he pictured the two of them at some romantic movie, his arm around her shoulder, having a wonderful time. Lately, the blond had been prone to such fits of jealousy and he hated it when he dwelled their relationship. It was then that he realized than if the driver looked back at that moment, he would see Ron glaring at his best friend with a slowly smoldering anger. He immediately put on a neutral face and began to slowly rub his temples in an attempt to force himself to let go of his negative feelings on the subject.

It worked. Plus, the added bonus was that his subconscious began to turn the vision of a date with Josh into one of a date with him. Suddenly, it was his arm that was wrapped around Kim and he was the one sharing the bucket of popcorn with her. And for just a moment, he allowed himself the possibility that the redhead might be thinking the same thing.

That though brought a large smile to his lips, one that remained there for a moment as he permitted his fantasy to continue, until the cold truth of the situation came back to him and he realized that there was little chance that she would be having such a pleasant dream about him. His smile faded once more into a slight frown, and he silently reminded himself for the umpteenth time since he had started feeling this way that girls like Kim would never find guys like him boyfriend material.

But, being the eternal optimist that he was and refusing to wallow in self-pity, he began to smile again knowing that, at least for the time being, Kim was happy and smiling. In Ron's opinion, it was something that she did far too infrequently nowadays and it made him happy just to see her display some outward sign that she was enjoying herself. As the car sped out of Oxford and on to London, he silently made a vow to try and get Kim to smile more, or at the very least once a day. He had a feeling that if he didn't, her pearly whites might not be making very many public appearances over the next couple of years.

His thoughts once more drifted as he turned his attention back to Kim and her angelic face. He allowed himself to indulge in his secret sport for fifteen more minutes until the desire to reach out and stroke her luscious red hair became almost too great for him to resist, for no matter how much he wanted to, that was an act that was clearly on the other side of the boyfriend/best friend line. Besides, he would have a hard enough time explaining it to Kim if she caught him watching her like this anyway, so the blond decided that he had enough for one night and once more leaned his head back on the headrest, closing his eyes and passing the time till London in quiet contemplation of whether or not England had a Bueno Nacho.

The remainder of the trip passed by fairly quickly. It only took them twenty more minutes to reach their destination, as there was little traffic on the freeways at one in the morning and after a few minutes navigating the local roads, the driver seemed to have found the one he was looking for. The building that their flat was located in sat on a corner and, from what little he could see at this time of night, it was located in a fairly residential neighborhood. It was a simple brownstone structure that stood four stories tall and it looked as though it had survived the war intact, none the worse for wear.

As the car came to a halt just outside the entrance, the driven once more silently put the car in park and got out. Ron looked over at his partner and noticed that the redhead hadn't woken up yet, and he realized that the day's events must have taken more out of her than he had originally thought. He reached over and, placing a hand on her shoulder, gave her a gentle shake to bring her back to reality. It worked, and after a few moments of the usual waking up motions, the heroine blinked owlishly and looked over at Ron with an expectant look on her face.

"We're here," he informed her with a gesture towards the building. The two teens then grabbed their respective bags and folders and climbed out of the car, coming to a stop in front of their driver who was waiting for them on the stoop of the brownstone. He climbed the stairs to building, removed a set of keys from his pocket and, selecting the correct one, slid the key into the door and unlocked the front entrance.

The trio stepped past the threshold and into a rather humble lobby. The entire space was poorly lit from several wall sconces whose light bulbs looked like they had been in service for well past their expected lifespan. What illumination was provided presented a hallway framed by faded yellow walls that were dingy with neglect and a well-worn floor, whose cheerless linoleum had conceded defeat in several places and was peeling back from the under-flooring. All in all, the total effect of the space was enough to dampen the spirits of the two teens who had expected something a little nicer than this.

Undaunted by the surroundings, the driver purposefully made his way to the solid but ancient looking stairway and began to ascend it. He led the two heroes to the second floor, whose decor was identical to that of the first, and around the open hallway to the front apartment that overlooked the corner. On the same key ring that he used to open the main entrance, their driver selected the only other key and inserted it into the door marked 2D. It twisted easily in the lock, and pushing the door out of the way, the MI-5 agent reached into the darkened flat, hit the light switch, and stepped through.

The flat itself was of the same style as the rest of the building but it appeared that someone had taken the time to give the place a through cleaning. The walls, while still pockmarked, uneven plaster, had a fresh coat of white paint on them and the hard wood floors had been brought to a nice shine despite the signs of aging that it carried. And the entire space was bathed in a healthy glow from the unassuming chandelier that hung from the ceiling in the middle of the room.

The two teens now began to feel their initial excitement return as they got a good look at their first apartment. In front of them was a living area that had been setup with a white pine framed couch with white cloth cushions that sat in front of a small television while in the other corner of the room stood a similar untreated circular pine table with several wooden chairs around it. Off to the left side, a small kitchenette was connected to the living room with the door to the bath set in the wall next to it.

Both teens just stood there, barely inside the doorway, taking it all in before Ron dropped his bag and, dashing over to the couch, fell onto it and gave off a hearty 'Boo-ya!' Kim watched her friend begin to make himself at home as she continued to look around her new flat with a look of awe and a smile that stretched from ear to ear. She moved slowly over towards the kitchen countertop and ran her hand along its smooth, white surface, still marveling in the absolute freedom that the space represented. It was then that a thought occurred to her.

"Umm, excuse me, but where are the bedrooms?" she asked the MI-5 agent.

The driver raised an eyebrow and allowed an enigmatic smile to grace his features upon hearing Kim's question. He pointed to a door on the opposite side of the flat from the kitchen and responded, "Well, Ms. Thompson, the bedroom is right through there."

The heroine was just about to thank the driver and made an almost imperceptible motion towards the door that he had indicated when the reality of what he had just said hit her. She turned to look at the agent, with a cross between a confused and a disbelieving look, and paused for a moment before asking her question.

"What exactly do you mean, _bedroom_? You can't tell me that this is a one bedroom apartment."

"That is precisely what I am telling you Ms. Thompson. Welcome to the Queen's government, where everything is on a budget. Besides, part of your cover is that you are posing as college roommates, and I know few university students that can afford a two bedroom flat."

By this time, Ron had picked his head up from off the couch to look over the top of it at both Kim and their driver. He had heard the entire conversation and, like Kim, had assumed that since this was a co-ed arrangement, that different sleeping quarters would be provided. Now that he knew the truth of their situation, he was conflicted as to how he felt. Part of him was excited at the prospect of sharing a bedroom with her, but another part was also very anxious. It was circumstances like these that always seemed to get people into trouble and he would be damned if he was going to let Kim find out about how he felt. That kind of knowledge could only lead to an uncomfortable conversation and possibly the loss of a friend.

Little did he know that his redheaded friend was having similar conflicted emotions. She knew that logistically this arrangement was not going to be a problem because Ron was a total gentleman and they'd be able to work around the modesty issues. Kim's problem was that she knew she was going to need some time away from the blond to try to sort out her feelings for him, but it seemed that the privacy of a room to herself was a luxury that she had left behind with the rest of Kim Possible.

But for the moment, it didn't matter as they had little choice in the matter. After a few seconds passed in silence, Ron let his head once more fall back to the surface of the couch, vowing to simply enjoy the moment and not let this development get to him, while Kim pushed herself off of the countertop that she had been leaning on and made her way over to the bedroom. The door to the room gave way to a space that was done in the same style as the living room, with two twin beds, two dressers, and two armoires, all made of the same untreated white pine.

Seeing the armoires reminded the redhead that her entire wardrobe consisted of the clothes that she currently had on. Yet her initial identification letter indicated that clothing would be provided for them, so Kim made a guess and opened the front of the armoire expecting to find it full. She was right, and it was full, but what it was full of surprised her. It seemed that Covington had been able to reproduce her wardrobe in almost every detail, from her green tank top and blue capris to her teal top with black pants and even her winter clothing. As she flipped through the drawers, she was amazed, and a little disturbed, that they were able to duplicate everything including her undergarments. Looking at the contents of that particular drawer, the heroine silently noted to ask Covington just how he had come about his information_._

_"On second thought, I'm not sure I really want to know how he found that out. And, Kim, make sure that first chance you get to sweep the place for bugs and anything else that might be hidden,"_ she resolved as she closed her dresser drawer.

The redhead then exited the bedroom to find that Ron had found their dinner. It consisted of a tuna fish sandwich, a banana, and a coke and she couldn't help the bemused laugh that escaped her as she thought about her new glamorous lifestyle as a British spy. In the end, the heroine grabbed her coke and walked over to where the MI-5 agent was leaning against the kitchen counter.

"Does everything meet with your approval, Ms. Thompson?" he asked, with a slight trace of sarcasm in his voice.

"Yeah, the apartment is great," she replied in a genuine voice, then added with a voice laced with a smattering of bitterness. "Especially the one bedroom."

The agent looked non-plussed. He stood up straight and placed two sets of keys on the countertop.

"Those are the keys to the building and the apartment. You need not worry about the rent or the utilities, as they are taken care of for you. Now, if there is nothing else...," he paused to make sure, "then I bid you a goodnight." And with that, he left the flat, leaving Kim and Ron alone in their new quarters.

Both teens watched the driver leave and continued to stare at the now closed door to their flat. They were both exhausted and despite the sleep that they had both gotten in the course of their travels, all they really wanted to do was go to bed. Kim looked at the meager food that had been provided for them and noticed that while Ron had polished off his sandwich, Rufus had taken care of hers. She smiled, finding the sight of the two of them sitting at their dinning room table, content from their latest meal, humorous for some reason.

She was still looking at him when the blond looked up and began to return the gaze. A moment passed, and then the two best friends shared a quick laugh, made up of equal parts excitement, embarrassment, and giddiness. For Kim, the laughter soon turned into a yawn that was infectious and spread quickly to Ron. With an unspoken agreement, both heroes got up from where they were and slowly moved into the bedroom. Kim grabbed her night clothes and scurried off to the bathroom to change and when she came back, she found that her partner had all ready stripped down to his boxers and was lying in bed.

For the briefest of moments, the atmosphere in the dark room turned extremely awkward for the two teens and the uncomfortable feeling that was hanging in the air only dissipated when the redhead climbed into her own separate bed. It had been years since the two friends had shared a room; once puberty hit, both sets of parents agreed that it would be best if the sleepovers stopped for everyone's peace of mind.

Kim rolled over and onto her side to look at her friend in the twilight and saw that he had his hands interlaced beneath his head as he stared at the ceiling. She stared at him for a moment, wondering what he was thinking about, before deciding that things were weird enough without having him catch her like that. The redhead flipped so that she was now facing away from Ron and closed her eyes, hearing several soft noises coming from the other bed as the other occupant of the room got comfortable. It wasn't long after that she had drifted off and began to enjoy a dream that was, for some reason, centered around her blond best friend.

_Sunday 22:04 Mountain Standard Time_

The agoraphobic ten-year-old was not happy. He had spent the last two weeks trying to find a lead, any lead, on Kim's whereabouts and had thus far struck out. Ron had come to him the day after he had gotten back from the Denver field office of the FBI to see if the child genius could get a definitive answer as to where the teen heroine had gotten off to so as to put his mind, and those of her parents, at ease. And despite his best efforts to the contrary, he was no closer to knowing where Kim was than he was at the beginning of his investigation.

At first, he had contacted the FBI himself to see if he could get a response but at every turn he met with a stone wall of silence and misdirection. Undaunted, he next turned to his contacts within Global Justice but he met with the same resistance that he got with the FBI. Even people with whom he had worked with for his entire career shunned him, and he might have done irreparable damage to some of those friendships, especially with Spencer Frederickson, the Director of Operations for Global Justice. The two had met at a GJ technical seminar and the elder techie and the younger agent became fast friends, in spite of their age difference. All that came to an end several days ago when the two engaged in a rather heated shouting match when Director Frederickson suggested, rather forcefully, that Wade drop his entire line of questioning for his own good.

In the end, he broke down and began a through, albeit illegal, search of all Global justice databases, including the highly classified ones. Wade and GJ had come to a tacit understanding about his snooping around the somewhat sensitive areas of their servers, as long as it was for the benefit of Team Possible, yet there was always an invisible line that the tech man of the team never crossed.

Until now. The final straw had come when a major hit came into the website, something that the webmaster simply couldn't ignore or turn down. Plus, Kim had never failed to stay out of touch for this long before. She had been on missions for GJ when it wasn't possible for Wade to get in touch with her, but she always checked in with him at least once a day. So, as his worry finally got the better of his good judgment, he unleashed every hacking tool known to man as he deftly wormed his way into some of the most encrypted computers on the planet.

It failed. There was not a single mention of Kim in the past two weeks and not a single clue as to where she might be. That was Friday, and he had planned to inform Ron of the discouraging news except that it appeared that the blond had also fallen off the face of the Earth. Since Ron was lacking a Kimmunicator of his own, he tried to get in touch the old fashioned way by calling him, but got no response at his house or on his cell. The young genius had tried several more times but by the time mid-day Sunday was upon him, he had become convinced that the blond might have befallen the same fate as Kim.

If that was the case, then it was a mixed blessing. Wade was certainly not pleased that Ron had disappeared as well, but he had something that Kim lacked. A tracking chip. He was loath to use it, and even after all this time he still wasn't sure that it was the right decision to have implanted it, but it was times like these that he was grateful that the blond had it. All it took was a few keystrokes and the Global Justice satellite network was able to pinpoint the teen's exact location.

The telemetry that the chip sent back showed that the blond was somewhere over the Atlantic at the time Wade first activated the chip and it also sent back biometric readings that showed that Ron was apparently in no danger and was experiencing no anxiety or distress. In fact, it almost appeared as if he was asleep, and his brain waves indicated that he that wasn't in a drug induced stupor.

He called GJ to see if he could find out more and was surprised when the response came from Dr. Director herself. She informed him that Team Possible, _both_ members of Team Possible, were on a classified mission for Global Justice to track down the terrorists that had gotten away in Siberia and that they would be out of communication for awhile.

The story that the Director had fed him didn't seem completely kosher to Wade and he decided that until he heard from with Kim or Ron directly, he would keep an open line to Ron's tracking chip, just in case. And that was where he currently found himself, staring blankly at one of his computer monitors, idly drumming his fingers on his desktop, not really looking at anything, just waiting for either a change in Ron's chip or contact was made by one of them. With a defeated sigh, punched in a few commands to pull up Ron's latest position and saw that the teen hero was now flying somewhere over the Eastern Mediterranean Sea.

The genius gave off a yawn and turned to look at his clock, noticing that it had gotten rather late. His mind might be leaps and bounds ahead of his ten-year-old peers but his body wasn't and all children his age wound down at ten at night. He stood, turning away from his bank of computers, and began to prepare for bed when the computer that was monitoring Ron began to give off a soft yet insistent alarm.

Wade let out an excited yelp as he turned his attention towards the irritating noise. The tracking program was designed to alert him whenever Ron's vitals dropped below or rose above certain established limits so the genius instantly knew that his friend was in danger. He immediately brought up the biometric readings and was horrified by what he saw. Total flat-line. No heart activity, no respiration, no brain wave activity, no nothing. According to his tracking chip, Ron Stoppable was dead.

The webmaster took a deep breath to steady his quickly rising panic. There was no way, simply no way, that this could be right. He ran a diagnostic check on the chip, the results of which indicated that it had suffered some damage but was still functioning properly. He then checked the feed to the GJ satellite to make sure that he was still receiving a full signal from the chip and found that the connection was at 97% strength.

By now, he was losing his fight to stay calm and, as his hands began to shake and he began to sweat, the genius started to allow for the possibility that the worst might have actually happened. What he needed was independent verification so he switched to the GJ satellite in geo-synchronous orbit over Israel, as it had the range to reach Ron's last known position. He activated the optical camera on board to see if he could get more information and what he saw made his heart sink.

It looked like Ron had been on a transport jet and the jet had landed on one of small outer Greek islands. Or, at least, what was left of the jet anyway. Wade could clearly make out the fuselage and part of a wing, but most of the plane was missing, having been torn apart when it impacted with the Earth. What was left had left a significant crater in the ground and was currently ablaze, the jet fuel having caught on fire.

He immediately requested an overlay of Ron's tracking chip, saying a silent prayer that what he suspected he would find would not be true. But, the genius was once again correct and the little blue dot that gave away the blond's position was right over top of the burning wreck. Knowing that there was little that he could do but needing to try anyway, he picked up his phone and hit the second speed dial. It connected an instant later with the Global Justice switchboard and the ten-year-old genius took a deep breath.

"This is Wade Load of Team Possible. I need to speak to Dr. Director immediately. Tell her it concerns Ron Stoppable and that there's been an accident..."

* * *

"I understand Wade...I'll dispatch all local assets to the location and contact the Greek government to help in the rescue. I promise that we'll do everything that we can to save him...I'll call you when I have something."

Dr. Director hung up the phone with a rather pleased smile. The estimates on how long it would take the genius to locate the crash site were right on and everything was going according to plan. She turned to look at her Director of Operations and motioned him to continue the status report on Operation "Fox and Sloth".

"As soon as the tracking chip was removed from Mr. Stoppable, it was transported to one of our airbases in Turkey. The chip was modified so that it would give off false readings, indicating that it was still inside its owner, so as to confuse Wade. Once in Turkey, it was taken to the base's morgue where it was implanted into the John Doe that we 'borrowed' from the local morgue. We took one male and one female of the approximate age and size as the two subjects and we removed their fingerprints and altered their teeth so as to match the dental records of Ms. Possible and Mr. Stoppable."

"The bodies were then loaded onto an obsolete transport jet and a black-ops pilot took off, heading for the Med. It's Jerry Manville, you know him, he did the job in Syria a few months back. Perfect for this. Anyway, the jet traveled along a predetermined route that would take it over several uninhabited Greek isles. Once in range, Roger Horrigan, another black-ops pro, who was stationed on the ground, singled to Jerry who disengaged the black box and engaged the autopilot just before ejecting. Once he was sure Jerry was clear, Horrigan fired a Russian-made RPG which collided with the jet at a few minutes after seven local time."

"It will take a few hours to get the fire under control and a few more to allow our forensics team to process the bodies, but we estimate that by four or five am our time, they should be able to make the call and identify the bodies as Kim Possible and Ron Stoppable."

The Director nodded, appreciating how well this mission was going and yet lamenting that it was even necessary in the first place. There were quite a few people in the Middleton area and two in downtown London who were going to have an especially bad day today. But, like Covington had said, there was no going back now and she put her personal feelings aside as she got back to the business at hand.

"When do we inform their parents?"

"Well, once the forensics team makes it's call, the report has to make its way up to you before you can publicly acknowledge the accident. Once you get word and make a few confirmation calls to various departments, just to make sure the report is correct, then you can inform the Special Agent-in-Charge of the Denver field office to dispatch agents to the parents. We expect to notify them sometime around seven in the morning our time."

"Why don't I just go myself? We're just as close as the field office and given all that Kim and Ron have done for us, wouldn't it be better if I went to tell the parents?"

Frederickson shook his head. "No. You will be too busy coordinating the investigation into what had happened to go to Middleton yourself. A few hours after they're told, you'll make the obligatory phone call to let them know how sorry you are for their loss, how the country is losing two great patriots, yadda, yadda, yadda...."

His cavalier attitude in this matter irritated her somewhat. Death was not a subject she took lightly and the people she would have to call later today were going to be in real pain, having lost the most important thing in their lives.

_"But, then again, they're not really dead now, are they?"_ she thought to herself. _"I suppose it's difficult to be somber over the deaths of two people whom you know for a fact are still alive."_ She then pushed aside her feelings on the subject for a moment and got back to the matter at hand.

"What exactly is the investigation going to turn up?"

"Nothing. Well, not nothing, but there is no way GJ will be tied to it. For the forensic evidence, our team in Greece will conclude that the terrorists who were planning on buying the stolen nuclear warhead wanted revenge on Team Possible for them spoiling their plans. The rocket that 'killed' them was Russian made, and it can therefore be argued that it was some more stolen Russian hardware that they had bought, especially after we hack several Russian military databases and add the rocket's serial number to a list of those reported stolen. Not to mention that our own databases have Team Possible on a mission to stop them. In the end, they will conclude that Kim and Ron are the latest casualties of the war on terror because it's what makes the most sense. And its what everyone will want to believe."

The Director couldn't argue with his logic. The DO always prepared the most through operations and she was sure that every possible scenario had been covered. She sighed, once again bothered by the grief that was about to be inflicted on numerous innocent people who's only crime was caring for Kim and Ron. She sighed, consigning herself to the truth of the state of affairs, and moved on with her briefing to other matters.

_Monday 17:35 Local Time_

The redheaded heroine was not happy. The problem was that she was no longer a redhead, having spent a good part of the day at a salon going through the appearance altering protocol, as Covington had put it. What she had called it was something that was enough to make even Ron blush and made her stylist on edge the entire time. Which lent itself to a result that wasn't as great as it could have been.

At the moment, she was standing in her bathroom staring at her now foreign reflection in the mirror. Just after the coloring had been done, she wanted to compare her shade of blonde to Ron's and found that it was a much more pedestrian shade than her friend's golden locks had been.

And Kim actually felt naked with her neck exposed like it was since they had taken off over a foot of hair so that it now ended at her shoulders. Not that she cared that much at that point; eliminating as much of this horrid yellow was just fine with her. And to top it all off, her eyes constantly itched. It seems that her eyes were a little more sensitive than the heroine thought and her new contact lenses were irritating her.

She was just about to apply some Visine to help control her discomfort when a quick knock came from their door. She inwardly groaned, not wanting to have to deal with anything more after such a long, trying day. The heroine placed both hands on the sink, slumped her shoulders, and hung her head, trying to take some comfort in the pure white porcelain. She was unwilling to go and answer the door and felt a grateful little smile cross her lips when Ron, who had been napping on the couch, called out that he was going to get it.

Kim heard the front door squeak open and a muffled conversation take place. She recognized the new voice and felt a new wave of frustration flow through her. Wasn't it bad enough what they had gone through today, what more could he possibly want? All she really wanted to do has take a nap like her now black haired friend, eat a little dinner and watch some TV, and forget that this day had ever happened. The now blonde girl picked up her head and looked at herself, blowing a stray lock of hair out of her face. _"Damnit, I look just like Justine Flanner,"_ the heroine thought bitterly.

She was brought out of her brooding by a rap on the bathroom door. "KP, Covington's here," she heard Ron tell her through the barrier. "He'd like to going over something with us, so whenever you're ready, if you could join us out here..." His voice trailed off as he moved away to give her some privacy. She sighed and resigned herself to having to perform one more duty this evening, even if she wasn't exactly sure what it was that her handler wanted. But, the sooner she found out, the sooner she could get it over with so she pushed herself off the sink and opened the door.

The first thing that greeted her was the wonderful smell of Chinese food. It hit her with a wave of nostalgia, as she remembered all those dinners she had at home when her mom had been at the hospital late, when her dad would bring home Chinese because he knew his way around a kitchen as much as he knew his way around an operating room. Her brothers usually just wolfed down their food, leaving just her and her father at the dinner table. Over her early teen years, it was how she had maintained a strong bond with him and how they came to know each other as people, and not just father and daughter.

Smell, they say, is the most powerful trigger of memory, and as those memories of her father came flooding back to her, she felt a homesick smile come to her even as she fought to blink back the tears that were threatening to form at the corner of her eyes. She gave off a depressed little sigh, imperceptible to anyone else, and walked over to her new dinning room table. Ron, who no matter how badly he wanted to tear into the food in front of him, always waited for Kim and he was looking expectantly at her to grab some chopsticks so that he could begin.

The former redhead then noticed that Covington was leaning up against her kitchen counter. His expression was a stark contrast from the one he had last night and earlier today. His happy-go-lucky attitude was replaced with crossed arms and a rather serious expression, almost a scowl. And he was hanging his head, almost as if he was trying to avoid making eye contact with them. She stopped half way between the table and the bathroom to give him a good look when Ron tried to bring her back to, what was in his opinion, a much more pressing matter. Dinner.

"Hey, KP, Covington brought us dinner. He's got your favorite, Chicken Lo Mien," he tantalized while dangling her pair of chopsticks in front of her. He was trying to cheer her up, as he knew that she had had a rather hard day, and he remembered the promise that he made to himself the night before.

Kim crossed the remaining distance between her and the table, but before either one of them could dig in, the MI-5 agent interrupted them. He stood up, brought his hands to his sides, and he was finally able to bring himself to look at the two teens. His face was that of a man who is reluctant to deliver bad news. It wasn't anything specific about his look, but it was a look that was universally recognized by every person when they see it. Doctors had it. Policemen had it. Military Officers had it. And now, their MI-5 handler had it, and it put the fear of God into the two members of Team Possible.

"Unfortunately, there is something that we must discuss before dinner, Henry." He swallowed, bracing himself for the inevitable, and walked over to the television. "This broke about forty minutes ago and was instantly picked up by every news outlet. Sorry I have to do this, but its necessary that you know. Besides, its probably better if I show you than if you find out on your own." He then turned on the TV, tuned it to the BBC, and stepped aside.

What they saw, well, its impossible to really describe what they felt in those first few moments after they knew what the rest of the world was just finding out. It was the lead story, heck it was the only story that the BBC news was carrying at the moment. Global Justice was confirming that at five this morning Greenwich Median Time, a GJ transport that was carrying the two members of Team Possible had been shot down over the Mediterranean Sea. There were no survivors.

To understand what they were going through, try to imagine what it would be like if someone walked over your grave and you get a sense of what it was like for Kim and Ron at that moment. As they sat there in stunned silence, the BBC anchorman continued to give all the details that GJ had given out and they saw their pictures flashed across the screen. Somewhere in the back of his mind Ron dully realized that that was the real reason why they needed their appearance altered but most of him was too numb to fully appreciate this fact.

The former blond was startled out of his gazing by the sound of the chair next to him scraping on the hardwood floor. He watched as his best friend moved over to their couch to get a better look at the TV as if she was running on autopilot. In fact, he wasn't even sure that she consciously made the decision to move or if she was aware that she had. Ron decided to follow her and a few seconds later he was sitting by her side. He split his attention between the story of his life, or rather death, and Kim, shifting his view between the two every few seconds.

Kim, for her part, was on emotional overload. Her immobility on the couch was no longer from shock, as that had departed her as the reality of the situation sunk in. Rather, it was that she was feeling so much at once that her body couldn't decide which emotion to display. Covington had hinted that this might happen, and she remembered telling Ron that it was a possibility back on that bench in Middleton Park. But now it was here, in front of her, and the abstract had become real.

Part of her fed off her earlier feelings of nostalgia to create an intense sense of homesickness in her. She was temped, really tempted, to run, find a phone, and call her daddy and tell him that she was all right and that her little Kimmie-Cub would be home soon. Just as she was thinking this, the anchorman informed the viewing public that both sets of parents had been informed about the tragedy. Suddenly, it wasn't about her anymore and she realized that today was the worst day of her parent's lives.

She began to picture what it must be like in her household at that moment. A quick mental calculation and she knew that it was ten-thirty back at home, so they must have been told only a few hours ago. She guessed that it would be her father who would have completely lost it. Her mother, who was more used to death as a part of her job, would be the one comforting her father, but she would be no less hurt. It's just that her style would be to silently take comfort in comforting her father. The tweebs would have been sent to Aunt June's for the time being while the funeral arrangements were made.

The other part of Team Possible was having quite a different reaction to the news. Sure, he was feeling the same things Kim was, and he was concerned about how his parents were taking all this. But, at the moment, he was most worried about his friend sitting next to him. The confidant, vibrant redhead that he knew had been replaced by a blonde who looked like she was in agony. When he heard in the background the anchorman say that their parents had been notified, he actually saw her flinch, as if someone had hit her. A pang hit his heart as he saw Kim like this and he reached over and grabbed her hand, interlacing his fingers with hers. At first, he thought that she wasn't aware of him, but then she began to squeeze his hand, almost as if holding onto it was the only thing saving her. And perhaps, it was.

Covington had decided to leave quietly, giving the two teens the moment to themselves. It was his experience that there was nothing that he could say or do to make this any easier. Time, like they say, heals all wounds and that was what it was going to take. And he knew that this was only the beginning. Team Possible was a lot more well known than the insular world of Middleton, Colorado that led them to believe and now the world would mourn on live TV the loss of their heroes. Thus, his job for the day over, he made his way over to the door of the apartment and exited without another word.

_Friday 21:52 Local Time _

From what Kim could see, it was a typical Friday night in London. The day's events were over and now, as day had passed into night, so to would the memory of Team Possible pass from the collective consciousness of the world into the pages of history. Now that the funeral that had taken place earlier today was over, she could finally begin to put everything behind her.

Even she had to reluctantly agree that it was a service that she was not expecting. On Tuesday, both their 'bodies' had lied in wake at their respective places of worship but were quickly moved to the Middleton High auditorium because of the number of people who had come to pay their respects. A protocol officer from Global Justice had talked with both parents and it was agreed that, due to the international interest in laying them to rest, that a public memorial service would be held in Washington followed by private graveside services for the two fallen heroes.

The memorial service was televised on most major networks, including the BBC, so much to the surprise of Kim and Ron, they were actually able to watch their own funeral on television. It was quite an affair, from the two riderless horses to the GJ jets in the missing man formation to the seventeen-gun salute. Plus the list of dignitaries that had attended was long and distinguished and included the Prime Ministers of Canada and Japan, seeing as how Kim and Ron had saved their countries specifically. Both sets of parents were there, but they had a dulled, out of it look almost as if they were just shells of their former selves that had lost their spirit.

But at least it was all in the past now. They were told that their training wouldn't begin until next Monday so they were stuck with nothing to do for a week. They had ventured out into the surrounding area a little, but most of their days had consisted of watching the news coverage and sleeping. By now, both of them were really looking forward to starting work so as to give them something to do to take their minds off of the final step of the new identity protocol.

The former redhead was brought out of her hobby of staring out her bedroom window by the sound of the apartment door shutting. Once the coverage was over, Ron said that he needed some time alone so he went to take a walk, leaving her to her thoughts. She turned her head slightly when she heard him enter the room, gave off a depressed sigh, and turned back towards the window. Her eyes were focused on the view out the window but she had her ears trained to see if she could pick up on what Ron was up to.

After several moments passed in silence, she was beginning to wonder if her friend was just going to stand there when she felt a pair of strong arms slip underneath her arms and capture her in a gentle embrace. She tensed for a second, as it was something that she wasn't expecting from Ron, but soon found herself melting into his features as she wrapped her arms around his. For the first time since the story broke on BBC and her life had been turned upside down, in his arms she felt like she was finally home.

"How ya doing, KP?" he whispered in her ear.

She searched her soul for an honest answer to his question and gave one that had the benefit of being both true and the one that he would want to hear.

"Better now. Thanks for being here for me Ron," she replied as a tiny smile crossed her lips and she laid her head back on his chest.

The former blond smiled in the twilight of their room. He had kept his promise to himself but more importantly, Kim honestly seemed to be doing a little better now that it was all over. He knew that it was going to take more time, a lot more time, for both of them to fully recover from this emotional trauma but at least they were on the road to healing. In that moment, a flash of insight came to him and he was certain that he had made the right choice in coming with her. He shuddered to think what it would have been like if she had to go through this alone.

Yet, given all that had happened in the past week, the future was looking bright for the two of them. They had started their new lives, they were going to be able to continue their work into their professional years, and they were together. In a way, it was like they were on the last page of the current chapter of their lives; it was over, but at the moment, they hadn't turned the page to start the new one. And in the here and now, it was just the two of them, taking comfort in each other, two friends who's bond of friendship had save each other.

And no matter what life had in store for them, no matter what fate gave or took from them, no matter how hard things might get, standing there in that embrace, Kim and Ron knew that their friendship would last their lifetime.

* * *

Author's Notes: That was an especially tough chapter to write, so I hope it meets with approval. Now that Kim and Ron are 'dead', the next chapter will take them through a training montage that will last the three years so by the end of Chapter 7, it will be 2008. I am looking forward to writing that chapter as I am sure it has to be easier than this one was.

For those of you who do not like Kim as a blonde, fear not. It is a temporary situation, as I had to edit this chapter several times to make sure that references to their hair color was correct after their visit to the salon. I kept wanted to write that Kim is a redhead, so she'll get her wish and go back. Eventually.

To sailingking and roaming gnome, shh! :-) On a more serious note, Tom Clancy is a favorite writer of mine, so I though I might, like all good writers, 'borrow' from him. But in name only. Now, it is back to 'Lotus Blade', my other story for Chapter 6 then back here for Chapter 7.

Until then, enjoy Chapter 6!


	7. Chapter 7: How to be a Secret Agent

Note: Anything contained in **_bold italics_** means it is spoken in another language. R.I.O. is Radio Intercept Officer. Think Goose in Top Gun. And Lima is local time.

Once again, the two members of Team Possible found themselves in the back of the black sedan that had become the preferred method of transportation by MI-5 when shuttling them around the streets of London. As much news coverage as there had been of their funeral, by 09:00 hours Monday morning, it was business as usual in the United Kingdom's largest city. People were concerned about how the FTSE would react given the new economic indicators that were due this morning, about how Manchester United was going to perform now that their starting striker was out for violations of the league's substance abuse policy, or about how long this nice string of weather was going to last.

But for Kim and Ron, their minds were focused solely on what lay ahead. After spending a week now living with the first of many consequences of their decision, they were glad for the opportunity to begin their training. Both felt the same kind of excitement that they felt at the beginning of a school year, with its new classes and endless possibilities. Only this time, Chemistry would consist not of how to determine the pH of an acid but rather how to turn that acid into an explosive agent. The two friends had practically memorized their training packets by this time, and knew exactly what was expected of them and on what timetable.

After picking them up at their flat, their driver, who was the same one as before, had taken them on a winding tour of the city until it stopped in front of a stately looking red brick building. Kim instantly came to the conclusion that they were at a university, for the building was just about the stereotypical New England college building complete with ivy, all of which looked right at home in this neighborhood of brownstone homes and shops. Taking their cue when their driver got out, Kim and Ron followed suit, noticing as they went a brass plaque attached to the side of the building that said "American University of London".

The MI-5 agent led them into the lobby of the building, which was simply decorated with a few benches along the almost bare brick walls and a receptionist desk set in the middle, just in front of a bank of elevators that granted access to the upper floors of the hall. Setting a brisk pace, their driver walked right up to the indifferent looking woman, who was in her late forties and was just starting to show signs of her age, and wait until he had her attention.

"I and my associates are here to see Dr. Goren," he announced. It was almost imperceptible, but Kim's trained eye was able to pick up a slight widening of the woman's eyes as she completely focused on the man that was in front of her.

"Of course. You are here for the psychology symposium, correct?" she asked very casually.

"I believe you are mistaken, ma'am. It is the mathematics convention."

With the identification procedure now complete, the woman nodded once and pressed a button hidden underneath her desk and the elevator on the far left instantly opened. The driver was once again off, with the two teens in tow, as he headed straight for the now open elevator, stepped in, and waited for Team Possible to do the same. When all there were in the car, the agent hit the Close Door button, paused while the doors did indeed shut and then hit the button for the fifth floor and then the third floor.

What happened next was a bit of a surprise for the two teens, as they were expecting the elevator car to go up and were thus caught unaware when it began to move down. It was easy to tell that it was moving at a high rate of speed, but even still it took over a minute for their trip to come to a conclusion. Of course, all thoughts about that were instantly pushed out of their minds as they gazed upon what lay beyond the open doors of the elevator.

It was a gigantic space, perhaps as large as four football fields placed in a square. The floor was almost uniformly made of some sort of gray granite and the walls were a pure white, totally uninterrupted surface. The floor plan was broken up into several distinct spaces devoted to different area of study. There was a boxing ring and weight training facility in one corner, a bank of state of the art computers in another, a sparing mat in another, and a pool in the last. Lining the space were doors that led to various classrooms, labs, one that held another elevator, and one that led to an office, which was were their MI-5 contact was leading them.

Upon entering the lavishly decorated room, Kim and Ron's focus was immediately set on Covington, who was sitting behind the large oak desk that was the centerpiece of the space. He was currently on the phone, but he stood up and motioned for the two teens to enter the room and sit down while giving the MI-5 driver a meaningful look. The agent took the hint and silently excused himself, leaving Team Possible alone in their boss' presence.

"Ah, welcome you two," the station chief began as he hung up the phone. "I am sure that you are anxious to get started now that you have something to occupy your time. Trust me, in two days you'll wish you were back enjoying lazy days spent in your flat. Now then, do you have any questions before we begin?"

"Yeah, where are we?" Mr. Pink asked.

"You are in a state of the art facility constructed for the sole purpose of training and preparing new covert field agents for British Intelligence. It cost over £7.5 million to construct what you see here plus some other locations that required more space. Most of your instructors are professors here at the university but are also MI-5 agents. Your cover, for the duration of your time with us, is that you are both students at this university. We will provide you with student ID cards, phony transcripts, and can even produce professors who will testify that they taught you if necessary."

"Who else is in the program?" Kim asked when Covington was done.

"Just the two of you."

This came as a bit of a surprise to both of them. With such a large facility, they had naturally assumed that there would be more agent trainees in the program, but their handler was telling them that that was not the case. Kim and Ron exchanged curious glances with each other, a quick, silent conversation passing between them before they once more turned back to face Covington.

"Wait, you mean to tell me that MI-5 built this entire place just for us?" Kim asked, all ready knowing the answer but still not able to bring herself to believe it.

"Yes," he replied simply, losing for a moment his jovial attitude in favor of a much more serious one. "Look, let me be frank with the two of you. Things in the intelligence community are still in flux given recent events. We spent years building the most sophisticated espionage network the world had even seen to defeat a specific enemy and now that we have won the war, and find ourselves in a new one, a different one, the old ways are no longer effective. The CIA and MI-5 are struggling to find a solution to this new problem and Team Possible is a key part of our new strategy."

"Both the British and the Americans will still have an extensive set of intelligence gathering resources. The analysts in Langley aren't going anywhere. But the goal here is no longer to cultivate long-term operatives but to prevent terror incidents, stop those who stand against us, and eliminate them. This requires, not a division of Royal Marines, but a surgical strike. Get in, get out, learn as much as you can then eliminate the threat. That's you."

Upon hearing Covington's little pep talk, Kim and Ron began to feel the full weight of the responsibility that they had taken on when they had accepted MI-5's offer. The former redhead never let it show; she was the picture of total calm, a total pro who accepted the sitch with grace. Inside, however, she was allowing some doubt to creep into her consciousness as she began to wonder if she was up for the job. Ron, who unfortunately was much less equipped at hiding his emotions, let his doubt show plainly on his face for their handler to see. Not that he would have needed to anyway; Covinington had been in the business long enough to know exactly what the two of them were thinking at the moment.

"I know right now that you're both wondering if you can handle this. The honest answer is, right now you can't. But in three years, after we get through with you, there won't be a single objective that you won't be able to complete. We haven't known each other for very long, but on this you just have to trust me. You'll get through this, and be the most elite special-ops team in the game."

He let that sink in for a bit, giving them a moment to their thoughts. The elder man knew that it would take some time before they gained confidence in themselves and fulfilled their true potential. He once again marveled that the Americans would just toss these two aside instead of cultivating their natural talents. _"What's their loss, is our gain,"_ he mentally reminded himself.

Once the slightly uncomfortable silent moment had passed, Covington stood up and motioned for Team Possible to do the same. He moved around his desk towards the door and exited his office, with the two teens in tow, moving in the direction of one of the classrooms.

"What now?" Ron asked.

"Now I introduce you to your first instructors. Both are waiting for you to begin work. Mr. Wallace, you are starting with Arabic and Ms. Possible you are starting with basic aviation," he explained as he came to a stop in front of the classroom in question. "Two things. First, don't fool around with these people. They are here to help protect the free world and take their jobs very seriously. And second, no one, other than myself and your driver, know your real identities or the location of your flat. Keep it that way. It's for your protection and theirs." And with that, he opened the door.

* * *

**_"Hello, Henry."_**

Ron just gave his instructor a blank look. As far as he could tell, the string of sounds that had just come from his rather attractive female instructor held no meaning whatsoever. He just sat there patiently, staring at the young woman with an expectant look on his face, waiting until she began again in English. His instructor, however, was not budging. She returned his gaze with one of her own, almost as if she was expecting some sort of answer. After several uncomfortable minutes, it became clear to her that her pupil had absolutely no idea what she was driving at so she began again.

"Alright, Mr. Wallace. Here's the deal. These are the last words of English I'm going to say to you until this course is complete and you can speak Arabic better than I can. Got it?"

Her plan did not sound like the best way for a person to learn such a language as different from his native one, but Ron took a quick look in her eyes and decided that she was not kidding. Which meant that this was going to be far more difficult than he had ever imagined. _"At least its not like my life depends on this. Oh wait, it does," _he thought sarcastically.

**_"Hello, Henry,"_** the instructor started again.

**_"Hello?"_** Ron replied, not quite sure what it was that he was saying but taking a mental leap and guessing correctly.

**_"Very Good! My name is Ms. White."_**

_"Oh boy,"_ he thought.

* * *

"Okay, your turn Ms. Thompson" 

Kim currently found herself in a very familiar yet very unfamiliar place just then. She was in a single prop Cessna flying at about a thousand feet over the English countryside. No stranger to flight, she often had to employ airborne travel to get to the various locations where her missions took place. The only difference was, all those times she had simply sat in the back, enjoyed the ride, and left the flying to the professionals. This time, she was supposed to be the professional.

The former redhead may be able to do anything, but she always found controlling vehicles to be of some difficulty. Knowing this, it added an element of uncertainty to the equation, which is why she began to Ôwhite knuckle' the yolk in front of her, translating even the slightest movement into a twist or turn of the plane.

"Just calm down, Karen, you're doing fine. Ease your grip on the yolk," her instructor told her. Truth be told, he was a little nervous at just how much the little plane was rocking from side to side and the agent-in-training became increasingly unsure of herself the more the plane began to rock, coming dangerously close to losing control of the plane.

"Ms. Thompson, please, just relax and ease up..." But he never got to finish that thought. It was at that point that Kim finally succumbed to her insecurity and the next thing she and her instructor knew, they were flying perfectly level. Just upside down.

"Well, I have good news and bad news. The good news is that you finally managed to level off the plane. The bad news is that when I look _up_ I can see the ground. Perhaps I should take over for a moment and we can try this again, okay?"

The teen, who by this time was quite embarrassed by her lack of skill, sheepishly turned control of the plane back over to her instructor.

_"Oh boy," _she thought.

* * *

"Attack." 

Ron looked at his latest instructor, his features showed the exasperation that he felt plainly. It seemed that if there was a theme for his training, it was trial by fire. One of his instructors had taken a moment to explain to him that learning by being totally immersed in whatever it was that you were studying was the fastest way to absorb the material, which left the former blond in a constant state of confusion. Not that it was unfamiliar territory for him to be a little lost in school.

Unfortunately, this was not one of the classrooms back at Middleton High. Rather, the teen found himself on the sparing mat dressed in a white gi facing his martial arts instructor who clearly had many more years experience than he did. Not even sure of the proper stance to take, he was naturally hesitant to rush head long into what he was sure would result in him knocked on his butt and sore.

"I said, attack," his instructor commanded, this time more forcefully. Ron got the message and charged.

It's difficult to assign a particular martial arts style to what the teen did, if the word style could even be applied. He took off at his opponent, totally reckless with arms flailing, having no idea which direction he was running in or how close he was to his target. His instructor never moved, his demeanor stoic as he waiting for his pupil to come to him. It didn't take long, but as soon as Ron was within distance, he struck. With lightning quickness, he knocked the hero's right arm out of the way and planted an open palm strike to Ron's sternum.

That brought his surroundings back to the former blond in a rush. His focus more on the impending pain than on his attack, it was shifted to the real pain that now emanated from his chest. The teen felt his legs fly out from underneath him and he landed with a hard smack on the thin pad. Taking a quick survey, he found that he wasn't injured, and that the stinging has bearable, but the teen hero had sneaking suspicion that he had a few thousand more of these to go through before he was able to at least defend himself.

"Open you're eyes and try to control your arm movements," he instructor barked as Ron picked himself up off the mat. "Again!"

_"This is gonna hurt," _he thought, giving off a sigh, as he charged once more.

* * *

"Just remember what he talked about, Karen," Kim's current instructor advised over the intercom. 

_"That's easy for you to say, you're not on the clock," _she thought bitterly. The former Global Justice agent found herself in a eight foot by eight foot Plexiglas room. And in front of her was a small device on a simple metal table that had a red LED counter that was ticking down. Which currently read 00:00:30.00.

This was, by far, the most complex bomb that Kim had worked on yet. She had already disabled three separate booby traps and was now working on separating the C-4 from the power source. Given another two or three minutes, this would have been a snap. But the teen didn't have a few minutes before she was nothing more that a red smear on the walls.

Grabbing some talc, she neutralized any moisture on her hands so as to prevent any last second slips that would cost her everything. The former redhead was frantically tracing wires back to their source in an attempt to find the right one. A quick check of the timer showed that she was just about out of time. Unable to continue, she gave up a silent prayer, picked a wire, and snipped.

_Splat!_ As soon as she made her decision, the 'C-4' burst open and sent a volley of red paint balls all over the place. They covered Kim, the 'bomb', the walls, just about everything in a layer of red paint, designed to simulate what would happen if that had been a real bomb.

"What happened?" Kim inquired after toggling her intercom.

"Simple, Ms. Thompson" her instructor replied with a shake of his head. "You picked the correct wire to disable the device but you missed the collapsing circuit beneath the main board. Once it detected a loss of juice from the power source, it kicked in a detonated the bomb. Congratulations, you're dead."

_"Fantastic, Possible. Try to remember that one for when you're in the real world,"_ she reproached herself, before heading off to grab a quick shower before her next lesson.

* * *

"KP, what are you doing here?" Ron asked as he saw his roomie walk into the large classroom. It had a solid wooden floor that had many pockmarks in its surface and one wall was a gigantic mirror, with nothing else in the room. And Ron had no idea what it was used for or what he was doing there. 

He was, however, happy to see Kim. Other than the half hour each night when they ate dinner together, he hadn't seen much of his best friend in over two months. He had thought it was curious that they had yet to have a single class together, but none of that mattered now. He flashed her his trademark goofy grin and got an equally enthusiastic one in return.

"I guess I'm taking this class with you. Any idea what Cultural Training I means?" the teen heroine asked him as she made her way across the floor to Ron.

"It means that you're here to learn how to dance, Miss Thompson," came a voice from the doorway. Standing there was a rather eccentric looking woman in her late fifties. She had on a friendly smile, but the gleam in her eyes told the two heroes that she was very passionate about her work and would be equally passionate about teaching it as well.

"Well, come on, come on, we don't have all day, you know," she commanded, clapping her hands to start the class. "First, you will learn to waltz. But you will learn it properly. No swaying to the music like a flag in the wind, but the moves and steps. Come on, the reason why your both here is because you need a partner for this class."

Two sets of eyes went just a touch wider at the thought of what partnering up in this class meant. Kim and Ron gave a quick look at each other and then turned away with a slight blush. The two teens was perfectly happy to just stand there, with a comfortable distance between them, but the rather insistent tapping of their instructor's foot caused some latent sense of chivalry to awaken in the former blond. Sighing, he took the lead by closing the gap between him and Kim, placing his left hand on her hip and taking her left hand in his right.

Kim, surprised at the boldness of such an act from her best friend, gasped in surprise as the distance between them dropped. Her partner had on his trademark goofy smile, but there was something extra added to it. He seemed just the tiniest bit pleased with himself, which was a side of him that she didn't she all that often.

Their instructor was droning on in the background about the four steps to the waltz when Ron leaned in to whisper something in her ear.

"Sorry."

"For what?"

"Your feet."

_"Oh, no..."_

* * *

_**"Mr. Wallace, it is so good of you to come. Shall we begin discussing the specifications of the contract?**_

Ron scrambled. He may not have understood everything his instructor had said, but he had gotten enough to get the gist of it to be able to answer her. He was still thinking in English, having to translate what he heard in Arabic to English, then form a reply in his native tongue, then translate that into Arabic. His teacher was pleased with his comprehension, but constantly commented that he needed to pick up the pace.

**_"Thank you. What....exactly is it that you....require me to do?"_**

**_"Henry,"_** his instructor sighed. **_"No one will believe that you are a native speaker of Arabic if you have to pause to remember every third word. How much are you studying this each night?"_**

The Sloth's mind was once again racing, but for a different reason. He knew that he needed to study this more, but between the extra time spent each day with the weight training and martial arts, he found his time severely lacking. And spending some time each day with Kim was just a higher priority to him than Arabic was.

_**"An hour, ma'am."**_

****

**_"That is not nearly enough time,"_** she replied with a shake of her head. **_"I want at least two hours twice a day from you from now on, understood?"_**

**_"Understood," _**Ron lamented, knowing that he had lost at least two more hours sleep each night until he was done here.

* * *

"Very good, Karen, very good," her instructor commented to her over the radio. This was Kim's sixth solo flight and she was doing wonderfully. Straight and level, the little Cessna that she had learned inside and out responded to her touch almost as if it could read her thoughts. A touch of the yoke here, a push of the rudder there, and she had the plane eating out of her hand. In fact, she was itching to try something else now besides flying ovals around the predetermined flight path. 

"Alright, bring her home," came the command over the airwaves. The former redhead responded, bringing the plane around in a gentle arc to line it up perfectly with the runway. She tilted the nose up, checked her air speed, set her flaps, and began her decent to the earth below. Twenty minutes later, the heroine had landed, taxied, and was shutting down the single engine as she watched her instructor come walking up to her.

"Congratulations, you pass," he informed her with a large smile.

"Thanks," she replied while taking off her sunglasses. She wasn't much for them, but life in the wild blue yonder required them. "So, what now?"

"Now?" he chuckled. "Now, you don't get to see the inside of an airplane for the next nine months."

"What?" she turned to him, the confusion evident on her face. "I thought you were going to teach me how to fly. How can I do that if I never get in a plane?"

"Because, we like our new pilots to get their feet wet in the simulators before they go crashing £30 million jets."

"Oh?" The thought of moving up to a jet intrigued her. "Just what kind of jet are we talking about?"

"You'll see."

* * *

The man in the white gi was beginning to get tired, although he would never show it. His pupil had advanced far beyond his expectations in a much shorter amount of time than anticipated. Granted, he was only operating at about 80, but the amount of coordination and discipline that Henry was putting in was really paying off. As was evidenced by the quick jab that he just landed on his instructor. 

"Enough!"

Ron, who was just about to launch another attack, stopped. It wasn't like his instructor to halt a practice session like that. They usually worked straight through the entire time allotted without even a bathroom break. The former blond slipped out of his fighting stance and waited patiently for the other man to explain.

"You have progressed far, Wallace-san. Even Sir Basil is surprised by your rapid advancement. As you may or may not have noticed, I have been holding back less and less in our training sessions each week. I believe, and Sir Basil agrees, that the time has come for you to train with someone else."

"Oh?" This was news to him. He had been working solely with one person for the last nine months and he wasn't exactly thrilled to learn that he was being handed off. Wasn't his current instructor good enough?

All thoughts, however, quickly left him as his new sparring partner walked in. He was equally happy at the sight and apprehensive as well. He knew, by reputation and by first hand knowledge just how good she was, that her skills were as potent as her once fiery red hair. But was he good enough to go up against her? In fifteen years, he had never had to answer that questions, save once, and she was mind control impaired at the time. But it didn't look like he had a choice and at least it meant more time with his most favorite person.

"Hey, KP," he greeted her with a small smile.

"Henry," came the reply with a smirk that seemed innocent enough, but Ron knew better. It was Kim's way of saying, _"Good luck, rookie, 'cuz I'm gonna have some fun today!"_

Both friends took their respective positions waiting for the signal to begin. The instructor stepped off to the side, ready to let them begin, when the phone that was attached to the wall rang. He picked it up, listened intently while Kim and Ron slipped from their ready positions, and then hung up the phone without a word.

"That was Covington. He asked me to relate to you a few things. First, he is very pleased with your progress so far, but wants to warn you that the toughest part is yet to come. Second, this is for Mr. Wallace, you have significantly caught up with Ms. Thompson here and can stop coming to remedial training each day (which earned a large boo-ya from the teen). And finally, Sir Basil has deemed that it has been long enough since your, umm..., initiation into MI-5 that you are no longer subject to the appearance alteration protocol. You can choose any look you want from now on (which earned a boo-ya from Kim this time). Now, begin!"

Kim, who was busy imagining looking in the mirror and seeing her glorious red hair again, never noticed the crisp sidekick that came from her opponent, knocking her to the ground and across the mat. She picked herself up, her pride wounded more than her body, and looked over to see her friend with quite the smug expression on his face.

"Oh, that's it. You're going down," she taunted with a small laugh as she launched herself at him.

* * *

"Wonderful!" their dance instructor exclaimed. 

Kim was forced to agree. At the moment, she was being led around the dance floor quite skillfully by her partner. It had taken quite awhile for him to learn even a simple rhythm and it was a price that her feet had had to bear. On the plus side, however, he had gotten quite good at giving foot massages.

But none of that mattered at the moment. The redhead was just having a good time, moving and twirling around the dance floor. It had taken a little longer for the blond to warm up to the sport, but he seemed to be enjoying it. Although, she was forced to wonder whether his newfound love of the waltz was because he enjoyed it, or because he enjoyed doing something with her.

She quickly put that thought out of her head. Since starting the program, the heroine had been so busy with her training that she had become lost in the work. It was easier to focus on the day in day out training than her best friend sleeping in the next bed over. But in those moments when she had nothing to occupy her mind, she found that more often than not her thoughts drifted to the decision she made and the one person left in her life.

Her train of thought was suddenly lost when she felt Ron gently lean into her. Quickly realizing that he was leading her into a dip, she allowed herself to be lowered into the move. The redhead was just about the entire way down when an unfortunate attack of 'Ron-ness' hit her dance partner. His left foot accidentally hit the back of his right and he tried to compensate for the lack of balance by shifting all his weight to his right foot, but he also shifted his weight forward, sending both him and Kim crashing to the ground.

It took a moment, a very awkward moment, for the two friends to untangle themselves and get back up. Their instructor was going on in the background about how they needed to work harder to get it right next time when their eyes locked. And in all the years that Kim had known Ron, she found something in his eyes that she hadn't seen before. A certain kind of nervousness and awkwardness that comes when a person is around someone that they are attracted to.

The heroine was taken aback by what she saw as she took the hand that Ron offered. _"What did that mean?_ she silently wondered as they began once again. She had barely started down that thought path when the object of her daydreaming disrupted her analysis.

"Sorry," The blond apologized quietly.

His best friend gave him a contemplative look before replying with her patented _'No Big'_. But as Ron's focus shifted from Kim to his dancing, her smile went from that of a friendly one to something with a little but more to it.

* * *

_**"But there is nothing prohibiting..."**_

_**"Unfortunately, the terms are non-negotiable. You can either accept what is on the table, or we must part ways. Which is it to be?"**_

"Perfect, Mr. Wallace. Absolutely perfect," his instructor praised, speaking for the first time in English in a little over three years. "There is not a hint of anything in your speech, its smooth, and there are no pauses. Are you thinking in Arabic now?"

"Yeah, it happened about six months or so ago," the teen replied. "But why all of a sudden English? I mean, I thought the entire class was to be taught in Arabic?"

"That's correct," his instructor beamed at him, "the entire course is taught in Arabic. But the course is now over. You passed. Congratulations, Mr. Wallace, you've learned more Arabic in a shorter amount of time than most UN translators. Good luck." And with that, she left.

Ron spent a moment longer looking around the classroom. Over the same time frame that his friends from back home in Middleton were just getting past the general education requirements of whatever college they went to, he had what amounted to a Masters Degree in not one but six languages. This from the perennial loser who was a hair away from flunking out of High School. And as his smile grew, there seemed to be only one work that captured the way he felt just then.

**_"Boo-ya!"_**

* * *

"Ten seconds to weapons range," Blue Fox's R.I.O. informed her over the intercom. They were zooming over the English countryside at 0.6 Mach in a British Harrier jet. Her final training mission was simple. Seek out and shoot down her instructor, call sign Mongoose. Kim knew, however, that it was much easier said than done. 

Nonetheless, she was confident that her R.I.O. could find the 'enemy' fighter for her. When she had begun her simulation runs and initial time in an actual jet, she had had a different R.I.O., a very capable major from the British military who was an invaluable source of information from which she learned. But, when the redhead found out who her permanent flight partner was, she was very pleased. After all, who could she trust with such life and death decisions more than her best friend, who had been learning his position separately from Kim until they put the two of them together?

Blue Fox glanced down at her instrumentation, specifically the radar screen in the middle of the panel in front of her. Ron had found her her bogey, gotten them to within weapon's range, and now the rest was up to her. She looked up and got her first view of the other jet that decided at that exact moment to break hard left and down in an attempt to break away from the Harrier.

With a sly grin, the heroine kicked in the afterburners and followed her bogey down, tracking it's every movement. Mongoose tried desperately to lose Kim, darting left and right, but to no avail. Once the Blue Fox had you in her sights, it was over before it even began. She settled in behind the enemy jet, letting the on board computer do its job of bringing the cross hairs over the soon-to-be former jet. The green square on her screen suddenly turned red and a alarm buzzed in her ears. That's when she activated her radio.

"Blue Fox to Mongoose. I have missile lock and you are dead. You shouldn't have taught me everything you knew," she teased with a contained joy in her voice.

"Excellent job, Blue Fox! You still have to go through debriefing, but there is nothing left between you and a passing grade. Nice work," her instructor informed her over the airwaves.

"And..."

"And when we land, I can get you that beer that I owe you."

"Spankin'."

_October 27, 2008 08:02 hours Lima_

For the past two weeks, things had gone from the usual fever pitch of activity to almost nothing. Kim and Ron were able to sleep in, which meant getting up at nine instead of the usual six. They were able to relax a bit and enjoy some of the things that they had missed out on over the last three years. Lunch each day was a picnic in a different park around London. Kim dragged Ron to just about every production available in the greatest place for theater after Broadway, and despite the protests, the blond found that he actually enjoyed most of them. They even had time to make a few day trips to the Continent, sampling some of the things that the French had to offer.

Once the pair had been given their flight status, they were told to report to Covington's office the next day at eight, which was were they currently found themselves. As the redhead surveyed the momentarily unoccupied office, it occurred to her that this office was just a front. It was way too neat and tidy for someone who was remarkably close to Ron's level of cleanliness or organization. But her thoughts on the matter were cut short when her boss walked in and plopped himself down in the chair.

"Congratulations are in order, you two. I hand picked all your instructors and told them to put you through hell. 'Do your damnedest to flunk them out,' I told them. And, from the reports that came in, they took my order to heart. But, here you sit, graduates of the most grueling training program MI-5 has ever devised."

All this had quite the effect on Ron. "That's acceptable," was the highest level of complement that the blond had gotten in the last three years, who had never received much praise for both his work in Team Possible and his academic work to begin with. But he had made it, no small feat, and that deserved recognition. Even Kim, for whom praise had been lavished upon during her childhood, was noticeably happy at what Covington had to say. But, as is the case in the world of espionage, you don't rest on your laurels and the two quickly got back to work.

"So, what's next?" Mr. Pink asked.

"For the moment, nothing. After working three years solid, you deserve a break, so take the next two weeks for yourself. That will also give our cover people time to create a plausible story for your everyday life. Second, as a bonus, you will find that £150,000 has been transferred into your accounts. Now, this money is not to be blown in one shot. You're going to need equipment and facilities, all of which must come out of your own pocket from now on."

"Why can't we just get the stuff we need from MI-5?"

"Simple. In order for there to be no connection to the British government, we can't provide you with anything. We won't even sell you any gear for the same reason; you have to find other sources or make your own. Either way, you two are now resourceful enough to figure it out on your own."

The heroine contemplated this for a moment before she grabbed a sheet of paper off Covington's desk and scribbled something down on it, handing it back to their handler.

"Is it all right if we make contact with that person?"

The British agent looked at the name on the slip of paper then gazed at Kim. When he was satisfied that she was serious, he punched a few commands into his computer.

"Yes, its fine with me. He has no current affiliation with the US government or Global Justice directly, so he should be fine. The nice twist is, all the money he uses for his research comes from the private sector but they get it from the US DOD. He'll be using US funds to build equipment for a team that the US has expressly forbidden. It's bloody brilliant!" he laughed at the thought of sticking it to the Americans.

"Good. You don't happen to know where he is, do you?" Kim asked.

"He is currently working in the Electrical Engineering Department of UC Berkley, teaching and doing research. The question is, are you sure its a good idea to approach him after all these years?"

"Positive," Blue Fox replied with a smile. "If we're going into harm's way, I want to be absolutely certain that my gear will work. And with him, I'm positive."

"Alright. We will contact you in two weeks at your flat with your first assignment. After that, we'll put out the word so that you can start soliciting freelance work. Until then..." and he got up, indicating that the meeting was over.

Both members of Team Possible got up as well, one very happy, the other extremely confused. As Covington walked them out of the building, the blond turned to his best friend to ask her who she had in mind, but the return look told him to hold his tongue for the moment. Once outside, they shook their boss' hand and proceed towards the Tube.

"Well?"

"Well what?" she teased with a small smile.

"Who was on that slip of paper that you're so confident in?"

"Here, see for yourself. We need to figure out how to approach him without freaking him out," she informed him while reaching into her pocket, extracting the slip of paper, and handing it over to her partner.

He glanced at it, blinked once and glanced again, just to make sure he was reading this right. He cast a sideways glance at his best friend who had a rather smug expression on just then.

"I guess this means that Team Possible, all of Team Possible, rides again, huh?"

"Just like old times," she told him, taking back the slip of paper and pocketing it. It had only two words on in.

Wade Load.

* * *

Author's Notes: Nope, this story isn't dead. My writing just slows to a crawl during the summer. But, now that summer's over, the updates should come much faster from now on.

This chapter wasn't one of my favorites. I saw it more as a chore than something fun, but it needed to be told to advance the plot from amateur Team Possible to professional Team Possible. Now that it's over, I'm looking forward to the next chapter and the reunion with Wade. Should be fun.

Until next time, Enjoy Chapter 7!


	8. Chapter 8: An Old Friend

_October 30, 2008 12:04 hours Lima_

The dark blue stretched limousine was definitely something that the inhabitants of the particular neighborhood in which it was currently located had never seen before. They were mostly homeless men who had been forced to the streets when the manufacturing plant had shut down, but there was the occasional purveyor of mind altering substances lurking in the shadows and even one 'lady of the street', although why she was out in the middle of the day was something that even Wade couldn't figure out.

His life had been highly exciting and depressingly lonely since the day of the accident. The ten year old felt an immeasurable loss when he had seen Ron's tracking chip report back a flat line, but he had damn near lost it when the news was broken to him that Kim was also among the dead at the crash site. The days that followed were no source of comfort either. Once the news broke, it instantly became an international sensation as it spread around the globe and with the two primary members of Team Possible gone, the news outlets turned to anyone they could to interview and fill the airwaves.

Less than twelve hours after the initial story, the front lawn of the Load residence looked like UN refugee camp. MSNBC, CNN, FoxNews, and numerous others had set up shop in front of the last member of Team Possible's house, waiting him out until the moment when he would finally make an appearance. They had just assumed that his reluctance to appear had to do with his grief over the loss of his colleagues. In their rush to get the story, they had neglected to do their homework and therefore no one knew that their intended target was agoraphobic.

It took a presence of no less than two dozen GJ agents and the personal plea of Dr. Director herself before he agreed to make his first public appearance in over three years and despite the fact that he was probably as well protected as the President at that moment, Wade felt a fear at the edge of his consciousness that threatened to spill over and override his intelligence. In fact, he was just about to bolt back to the confines of his house and call of the whole ordeal when he felt a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Do it for Kim and Ron," was all that Betty had to whisper into his ear before his courage returned to him. He was still scared out of his mind, but he would be damned if he didn't perform this last act of friendship.

The experience didn't leave him unscathed, however. While the pillar of strength for his friends at the funeral, once back at home he would panic if he even got close to a window. The boy not only shut himself in his room, but he also had the one window boarded up and even then he avoided it like the plague. To make matters worse, his one great source of enjoyment, his work with Team Possible, had been taken away from him. He did do a little consulting work for outside firms, mostly to get the money for Team Possbile's gadgets, but that was just an aside. Without friends and without something to keep his mind occupied, Wade slipped into a deep depression.

After two months of his self-imposed exile, Dr. Director felt that she owed a debt to the young man for his work with the freelance Global Justice team. Because of his work with the Cabinet-level minister and the fact that he subconsciously equated her to Kim and Ron, she was the only person that he would listen to anymore. She took the direct approach, informing him that this would be the absolute last thing that Kim and Ron would have wanted for him. They would have wanted him to do something productive with his life, and she had just the idea.

The University of California at Berkley ran a think tank for several government agencies, FBI, CIA, GJ, Defense, etc. They were given long term problems to see if they could come up with solutions to benefit the citizens of the US. They worked on everything from anti-viral agents to protect agents from a biological attack to smart dog-tags that held a solder's entire medical history to light refractive technologies to create invisibility. Dr. Director though that this would be the perfect place for someone like Wade. Plus, any research he did that was not specific to his work in the Special Projects unit was his to keep.

That was three years ago. Today, Wade Load, professor of Electrical Engineering, was one of the more popular professors among the students of UC Berkley. It took a bit for the eighteen year olds to get used to being taught by a thirteen year old who did all his teaching via video link from his lab. No one ever saw him in person, but he could relate to them in ways that the older professors couldn't. Plus, his elusiveness had created an entire sub-culture devoted to Wade spotting, students hoping to get a glimpse of the recluse. Wade Load, in short, had become something of a legend.

Which was why today, one Simon Laferty, a junior studying biology, got the thrill of his life when he was the first student since the Wade spotters club formed to actually see the boy in person. He was surrounded by two men in black, government style suits and was ushered quickly into an oddly colored blue limo before he was whisked away to god knows where. His limo, something that his now considerable wealth allowed for him, got its color as a silent tribute to Team Possible. The blue was the same color as Kim's Kimmunicator and the unusual color was an attempt to 'Never be Normal', Ron's personal motto.

Why he was out of his lab this particular day was something of a mystery to the African-American teen. He wanted nothing more than to be back in his lab, working on his latest project, but instead he was on his way to a meeting that was more a favor for an old friend. Dr. Director had come to him earlier this week asking him to take a meeting with the son of an old friend who was thinking of starting up his own company and needed some advice about his product. If it had been anyone else, Wade would have flatly refused but given all that she had done for him, how could he not take the meeting?

He was now having second thoughts about this whole thing, however, given his current surroundings. The limo was traveling through a run down area of an industrial suburb where a little under half of the buildings had been boarded up, which was why he was traveling with two personal bodyguards. Wade didn't anticipate any trouble on this little journey; the guards were more for his peace of mind than anything else.

The teen was absently staring out the window, not really seeing anything as the images just washed over his eyes, until the sudden stop of the car caught his attention. Apparently, they had arrived. The building itself, to his surprise, actually gave off a sense of reassurance as it looked like it had been taken care of. It was a four-story tall, dark yellow brick building that was about half a city block square. There were no signs and no receptionist, but the door was intact and unlocked and the grass recently cut. After stepping out of the limo, the teen waited until he got the okay from his guards that it was safe to continue and stepped into the building behind them.

The interior was also well taken care of. There was a narrow hallway off to the left and a staircase to the right. The walls were made of the same dark yellow brick and the doors were a deep brown without any windows set in them. The interior of the building was poorly lit, but enough light spilled in from the entranceway windows to allow all three occupants to take in their surroundings. Dr. Director's friend's office was on the third floor, so the trio began the ascent up the squeaky, yet solid stairs.

It took but a moment for them to climb the two sets of stairs and down the hallway to a door marked only by the suite number. Unable to see into the office, the two guards unbuttoned their suit jackets and shoulder holsters, their level of anxiety increasing slightly. The first guard put his hand on Wade's chest, gently pushing the teen back behind him before knocking on the door. After waiting ten seconds, he knocked again and once again received no response. He looked back at his employer with a question in his eyes, and when the teen nodded, he opened the door.

Once the first guard was through the door and Wade was able to step into the space and get a good look around, he knew instantly that this was a trap of some sort. If he had had his bearings, he would have been able to tell that the office was rather small, maybe a total of twenty feet square. The floor was a well-worn hardwood and the walls were a plain white drywall. The only illumination came from the three windows on the far side of the room and the only furniture was a single desk and chair.

But none of that mattered. The only thing the teen saw were the two other occupants of the room. One of them, the red headed woman, was sitting behind the desk while the other, the blond man, was leaning up against the windows just behind his friend. At first, he thought that he might be having some sort of delusional episode brought on by the stress of being out in the open. That idea was quickly dismissed as he looked to his bodyguards who were also seeing them. Then what was going on? Clones? Alternate realty? Time travel? But it didn't matter. All that mattered was that based on everything he had seen, they were in grave danger.

"John," Wade spoke a single, direct command towards the guard on his left. In the blink of an eye, two Beretta 9mm weapons were drawn and aimed at the two people at the other end of the room who had just become targets. Obviously, this was not what they expected to have happen. Both had been sporting a smile of unrecognizable intent up until a moment ago, but now their faces became stern and they visibly stiffened.

The blond spoke first.

"Um, Wade, buddy, I know it's been a long time, but is that really necessary?" he asked, although without a hint of fear in his voice. That alone sealed the deal for Wade. If this were the real Ron, he would be a quivering mass of fear and nerves right about now.

"John, if either one of them takes just one step towards us, shoot them and take them down. We walked into some sort of trap laid down by someone rather ruthless," he informed his guard, earning him a slight grunt and a nod. Then, turning his attention back to the man who spoke, "I'm not sure who, or what, you are, but whatever is going on here, I'm going to find out and then I'm going to get GJ to dismantle you, molecule by molecule. Now, if you want to live for longer than the next twenty seconds, you'll let us leave." The command was issued with a lot more confidence that the boy felt just then.

The red head and the blond exchanged glances, a silent conversation quickly passing between the two, before the redhead decided to make a bold play and stood up, with her hands raised in a peaceful demonstration. Instantly, both guards had their guns trained on her as she very slowly, and very carefully, made her way around the desk to the front.

"Not another move, lady," came the almost bark of a command from John when the redhead reached the front of the desk. She nodded, and sat down on the edge, placing her hands at her sides in an attempt to introduce some ease into the sitch.

"Wade," she began, in an almost pleading voice (_"God, she even sounds like her," _he thought in amazement), "It's us, Kim and Ron. I know that this is hard to take in, but you've got to trust that what you see is the truth. Please, tell your men to put down their guns. You're not in any danger, I promise. Come on, have I ever lied to you in the past?"

"Kim Possible never lied to me, God rest her soul," he replied after a moment's thought. "But she died in a plane crash over three years ago. And Ron Stoppable never had any ill will towards me, but he would also be terrified if someone even mentioned the word 'gun' around him. So, the answer to you question is yes, your entire existence is nothing but a lie, a disservice to a woman who gave her life fighting to protect those who needed it. That in and of itself is enough to disgust me and want to give the order to kill you both. But, since I'm in an exposed situation, I'd rather retreat and find out what's going on later." With that, he turned to head back into the hallway.

"Just to set the record straight," she called after him just before he was out of sight, "you are wrong. In the entire time I've known you, I've broken my word once. When you and Ron went on the trip to South America to find a rare orchid for me, and I promised I'd stay in my room, and then went on a date with Josh. You do remember that, don't you?"

That rattled him. He could see how an imposter could be taught everything about Kim's life, her biography, her missions, et cetera. But that wasn't really a mission, and thus there was no official log of it, either by him or Global Justice. And she hadn't made mention of the incident in her diary, at least not the one that he had hacked into everyday. So, how the hell did...whomever this was know about that. Then it hit him.

"Draken," he replied with a sly smile, the one he got after solving a puzzle. "You're either working for Draken or are one of his creations. It's the only way you could know about that as he was the one who came up with that plan in the first place."

The redhead sighed. "There is a simpler explanation, Wade. I really could be who I say I am."

"No," the teen spit back, a copious amount of venom placed behind the word. "The real Kim and Ron died. I should know. I was the one who first detected the loss of signal from Ron's locator chip. I was the one who retasked the spy satellite and saw the fiery crash on that Greek island. I was in on the autopsy via video link and watched as the matched up the dental records. The chip they recovered from the wreckage an exact match to Ron's." He was now almost on the verge of tears, the emotions of reliving that week of hell catching up to him, straining his voice.

"And I will never forget when Mrs. Dr. Possible came to me in person and told me that she wouldn't believe it unless I confirmed it. What the hell was I supposed to tell her? Huh?" Now the tears were free flowing and his voice was cracking and the guards looked like they wanted to take someone's head off with their bare hands. "I was ten years old and I had to be the one to tell this mother that her only daughter wasn't coming home. I was the one who shattered her life forever. It was me. How the hell was I supposed to get over that? And, now, you expect me to believe that despite all that evidence and all that circumstance, we were wrong? How dare you?!"

His little speech seemed to have an effect on the two. The redhead had let a tear or two drop herself and the blond had done the macho thing by turning away and blinking away the moisture in his own eyes. There was a period of uncomfortable silence when neither party said anything until Wade finally made the decision to leave. That decision forced the blond to step up and speak for the first time since all this began.

"Wade," he began softly, "there is one more way you can tell that it's really us. My tracking chip, remember?" With that, he turned around and pulled down the collar of the t-shirt that he was wearing, revealing a small, well-healed scar that ran vertically down his neck.

"That could have been duplicated. There's no proof that the tracking chip was ever in you," the teen declared after examining the scar from a safe distance for a moment. "Unless... it wasn't listed in the official autopsy report, but the chip had several thin,wire leads that extended out from it to act as sensors. When we recovered the chip, it was missing two of them. If you are who you say you are, then those leads should still be inside of you."

Without waiting for consent, Wade began walking over towards the blond, extracting a small blue PDA from his pocket. It wasn't the Kimmunicator, but it was mighty close, and it had an X-ray feature built into it that would now come in mighty handy. Upon reaching the blond, he hit a switch that activated the X-ray beam and a blue light to help in aiming, with the resulting image appearing on the tiny screen. He moved the device around the scar that the blond had, searching for the missing leads with both a desperate longing to find them, thus getting his friend back, and a desire to find nothing, to prove once and for all that this was a fraud.

He was absently going about his search, more lost in thoughts of what to do afterwards, when the device gave off a small beep. Coming out of his thoughts, Wade glanced down at the screen and gave off an involuntary yelp of surprise. There, in black and white, were the two missing leads, embedded in this man's neck.

"R-R-Ron?" he managed to squeak out, dropping the PDA to the ground in a clatter. Ron quickly spun around and looked at his friend of numerous years, seeing in his eyes that he had finally come to terms with the truth. The blond hero then grabbed his friend in a gigantic bear hug that was instantly returned and was soon added to when a third person, Kim, joined them.

They held the embrace for a long time, much to the discomfort of the guards, until finally the teen had to break it off just so he could breathe. He led the three of them over to desk and gave an order to his guards to wait outside. For the first time since he entered the office, Wade favored the two of them with a smile.

"Wha?... How?" was all he managed to sputter out before they shared a brief, relaxing laugh that cleared the air. For all his genius, Wade Load was simply at a loss as to what to think at the moment.

"It'll take some time," Kim told him. "Henry and I have a lot to tell you so you might want to make yourself comfortable."

The teen nodded and took a seat in the only chair in the room before the first of many questions sprang to his lips.

"Henry?"

* * *

It was the most amazing story that Wade had ever heard and if it wasn't coming from his two friends, then he never would have believed it. Faking their own deaths so that they could escape the oversight of the US government and begin working secretly for MI-5? It was quite an amazing tale, but not one without backup. Kim, or rather Karen, for her part, looked fundamentally the same as she had when he had last seen her, although she had filled out quite nicely in the transition from seventeen to twenty.

Ron, on the other hand, was a changed man. Gone was the lumpy, pasty teen whose idea of heavy lifting had been carrying a video game from its case to the game machine. In his place, stood a broad shouldered, lean, and tough looking operative who had grown several inches in the past few years. Wade never would have believed that his friend was capable of such a transformation, except here he was, in the flesh.

But what they had done in the last three years was secondary to the way he was feeling at the moment. What had started out as pure elation at the return of his friends had turned to bit of anger at the realization that the two of them had lied to just about everyone that they had ever cared about and who had cared about them. His anger turned to a nice white-hot shade when he stopped listening to them and remembered just how their parents looked at the funeral.

"How could you?" he whispered when they had finished telling their tale. It was so quiet that Kim and Ron weren't sure that they had heard him right at first.

"I'm not sure what you mean," Kim offered.

"Do you have any idea what kind of damage your decision has caused back at home? Do you?" he continued, his voice gaining in strength. When both his friends didn't respond immediately, he pressed the issue. "Kim, Karen, whatever the hell your name is now, did you even bother to find out what you left in your wake? Your mother had a nervous breakdown. She left Middleton General and had to take a year off before she finally pulled herself together to start her own practice. Its small but she likes it. Your brothers came within the skin of their teeth of being thrown in juvenal hall, after they ran amuck. It was only a plea by your father in your name that saved them. As for your parents, Ron, they just packed up and left. No one knows where they went or how they are. They're just gone."

The silence that followed was crushing. There was nothing that the two former members of Team Possible could say to alleviate the guilt that both of them felt at the moment, but it seemed as thought Wade was willing to wait them out to get an answer.

"Henry, would you give us a minute, please?" Kim finally asked Ron. The blond gave her a quizzical look, but when he got a reassuring nod in return, he made his way over to the door, leaving Kim and Wade alone.

"I can't speak for Ron, so I wouldn't even venture a guess as to why he took the offer. Why did I do it? I knew that my family was going to go through hell and I agonized over it for weeks before and months after. But, do you remember when I was telling you about the conditions that the State Department was placing on us?"

Wade nodded and Kim paused, gathering her thoughts on how best to explain it to her friend. "There are moments in life when we absently say that we would give anything for something, or to keep something, important to us. Rarely, if ever, are we truly placed in such situations for real. When we say 'Boy, I'd give anything for just one more day of vacation,' no one's there with a little contract to offer us. Its just a figure of speech."

"Then, one day, I found myself in that very sitch. On the one hand, I had Ron and on the other, I had everything else. Ya know, it's amazing. Not many people get to find out just what something means to them. In my case, I found out just how much he means to me," she said, gesturing towards the door. "I'll never admit it to him, but it took a grand total of a single heartbeat to realize that there was nothing I wouldn't give up for him. Nothing. The rest was just coming to terms with my decision."

"Do you love him?"

"I don't know." came the honest reply. "I don't know how I feel about him. I know I love him, but what you were asking is whether or not I feel romantic love for him. Right now, all I know is that I need the time to sort out my feelings and the only way to do that is to have him in my life. I will always feel guilty about the repercussions of the decision I made, but he means more to me than my family. I know how bad that might sound, but it's the truth and I won't apologize for the truth."

Wade sighed. He always suspected that there might be something a little more than just a friendship between the two, but he could never be sure. Plus, the fact that she was dating Josh when she 'died' made him think that nothing was ever going to happen between the two of them. But, seeing her here, listening to her think out loud, he was beginning to get an idea of why she made the decision that she did.

"So, now what?"

"Well, first, lets get Henry back in here, okay?" It took a moment for Kim to get Ron back in the room, but once he was, the redhead wasted no time in getting right down to business. "The reason we contacted you is because we need you to resume the same role you played in the old Team Possible in the new one."

"What do you mean?"

"It's a three-fold operation. First, you would coordinate all job offers and be the contact between our clients and us. Second, intelligence. You're our eyes and ears while on the job. And third, you're our gadget man. Everything from a watch that doubles as a climbing rope to forged documents to vehicles. It's similar to what you did before, only this time, it's for hire."

"It sounds great, but I already have a job, one that I enjoy very much. I get to teach and I get a sweet lab where I can do just about anything I want. Why would I want to give that up?"

"That's the beauty of this arraignment. Nothing about your current life would change. You could do everything remotely, just like before."

"And my cut?"

That caused both of them to blink. Somehow, both members of Team Possible expected the same old innocent Wade, a boy frozen in time. So, it came as a bit of a shock to discover that he had become somewhat jaded over the years. _"But, I suppose we had a hand in doing that," _Kim though with a bit a bitterness and a bit of regret.

"Twenty percent."

"Plus expenses."

A sigh. "Plus expenses."

"I still don't know."

"Look, you don't have to decide right now. You've got a week to give us an answer before we have to start looking for someone else. If you want in, give that phone number a call. It's to our flat in the UK. There's just one more thing, Wade. Do you have any regular contact with people back in Middleton?" The teen shook his head. "Good. You can't tell anyone. No one. Not even our parents. If you don't, we're dead. Rather than risk losing face and straining US-UK relationships, MI-5 will simply get rid of us. It's that simple. Do you understand?"

He gulped, a touch of fear and the realization of the weight of the information that he now carried showing on his face.

"Got it," he told them both with a glance at his watch. "Now, I have to be going. This meeting was supposed to last only an hour, but I've been here for over three and I have a class to teach. If I don't show, people will start talking."

"Alright," Kim gave in, reluctantly. "Its good to see you again." Then she walked over and gave her friend a hug while Ron shook his hand. He gave them one last smile before he turned and headed back out of the office for the ride back to Berkley.

_October 31, 2008 00:53 hours Lima_

The key slid into the lock of their flat without a problem. Employing years of training and still more years of experience, both members of Team Possible gave a quick look around for anything out of the ordinary before relaxing, glad to be home after a rather emotionally exhausting trip to the US. Ron headed straight for the bedroom to check in on Rufus while Kim headed for the fridge to get a can of Coke.

Having extracted what she was looking for, the redhead popped open the can and leaned back against the counter. After a minute of just enjoying the feeling of being home, Kim opened her eyes and glanced around, her attention being grabbed by the steady blinking light of the answering machine. She crossed over to it and hit the play button.

_"Alright, I'm in. What's next?"_ was all the message contained but it said enough. She smiled, hit the erase button, and headed for the bedroom to tell Ron the good news.

* * *

Author's Notes: Well, I'm not terribly pleased with this chapter so to those of you who are still with me I hope it doesn't disappoint. Anyway, hopefully I'll have Lotus Blade out soon.

Until then, enjoy chapter 8.


	9. Chapter 9: Chateau de Foret Noire Pt 1

Note: Anything contained in **_bold italics_** means it is spoken in another language.

_Thursday, November 6, 2008 13:04 Lima_

The day was, for lack of a better word, perfect. Indian Summer had come and had raised the temperature to a balmy sixty-five degrees. The sky was a perfect shade of blue and there wasn't a hint of a chill in the air. All in all, it added up to great weather to be outside on this November afternoon, which was why, should anyone be looking for them, the two members of Team Possible could be found having a nice midday picnic at Hyde Park.

Not that anyone was looking for them, mind you. Why would they? As far as the millions of inhabitants of London knew, minus a few key people high up the food chain, Karen Thompson and Henry Wallace were two recent graduates of the American University of London who were computer programmers that worked remotely for a US firm. If anyone had bothered to take a second look at the two, they might have commented that they looked a bit young to be college grads, but all in all there wasn't a single thing out of the ordinary about them.

What the fine citizens of London were unaware of was that there was nothing ordinary about these two. Thanks to their recently rehired friend, there was a trunk that was stored carefully under their beds that contained a variety of specialized gadgets for every conceivable sitch. Their wardrobe had been fully decked out with everything from scuba gear and space suits to white dinner jackets and long flowing gowns. And they had on call at all times a private jet that could transport them to almost any location in the entire world with just thirty minutes notice.

Of course, none of that mattered at the moment. The two best friends were simply enjoying one of their favorite pastimes, a picnic. Kim loved the peace and tranquility that came with a day spent in the park, idly chatting with her friend about nothing at all. Ron loved the sandwiches. And the cold chicken. And the potato salad. And the watermelon. And just about anything else the young man could shove into the oversized basket that they used for such occasions.

Unfortunately for the two, fate seemed to enjoy interrupting them on their picnics with a more pressing matter. For Kim, the familiar four tones that signaled a call from Wade were not altogether unwelcome, as it brought back a powerful sense of nostalgia for a simpler time. The redhead allowed herself a half second to revel in the feeling of home that the sound engendered before getting down to business.

Her Kimmunicator, like most things in her life, had also gotten an upgrade from its previous version. Gone where the days of the bulky PDA device; almost everything that was on the old Kimmunicator had been put into a pair of stylish glasses. Wire oval frames with specially designed, non-prescription lenses allowed Wade to appear right before Kim's eyes without anyone else being able to view the video feed. A small ear piece ran from the end of one of the stems so that the female operative could hear her tech man and a microphone and miniaturized camera built into the bridge of the frames allowed Wade to see and hear Kim as well. Ron was sporting an identical pair only his were octagon in shape.

"Go, Wade," the redhead spoke out loud, activating the voice command to initiate the connection with her tech man. The teen instantly appeared on the right lens of both Kim's and Ron's glasses, the Kimmunicator responding to the encoded voice command. It was the first time that they had seen him since their meeting in California a week ago and he looked eager to start work again.

"Karen, I just got word from Covington. I know that you guys aren't supposed to go live until Monday, but since you're all set up and the fact that its a pressing matter, you've been activated early. I'm patching through the video feed from MI-5 now."

With that, the tech man hit a few keys on his keyboard, calling forth the video clip in question. Once done, Wade's image was replaced with the MI-5 special operations division logo for a few seconds before the screen changed to a shot of a man that Kim and Ron had never seen before. He was very well dressed in a dark blue suit and looked to be about in his mid-fifties, with his black hair just starting to show signs of gray but the single most striking thing about him was his piercing, ice blue eyes. Kim found that she was having trouble tearing herself away from staring at his image when Covington's voice started, beginning the briefing.

"This message is code-word classified, eyes only Blue Fox and Pink Sloth. Good morning. The man that you are looking at is Pierre Laurent, a wealthy and influential French businessman who owns several construction companies that do exclusive work for the French government. He is also a traitor."

The image changed from that of Messer. Laurent to that of several images of documents that bore the logo of either MI-5 or the French Foreign Ministry. The documents flipped by at a rate that neither Kim nor Ron could tell what was on them but based on the various warnings of Classified, Code Word, and Eyes Only, they could tell that the information contain in them was extremely sensitive.

"Through his connections with the French government, his construction company has built numerous government buildings, including the Foreign Ministry building and the British embassy in Paris. It was recently discovered," Covington went on as the image changed to that of blueprints of the embassy building, "that several next generation reconnaissance devices were planted during construction. We estimate that the data that he has stolen has a street value of just under £37 million."

Upon hearing that large a sum, Kim and Ron shifted their focus from the briefing to one another, exchanging a quick but meaningful glance before returning their attention back to the video stream. The image had once again changed to that of the outside of an impressive looking chateau at night.

"We suspect that he knows that we have discovered the existence of the bugs he has planted and is planning to sell what information he has and disappear. He is throwing a grand ball tomorrow night at his chateau as a cover to complete the transfer with his buyer. Your mission is to infiltrate the party, copy and eliminate any and all classified material that he may have, and attempt to discern the identity of his buyer. Good luck."

The screen changed once more to that of the MI-5 special op's logo before Wade stopped the transmission and cut back in.

"For this job, you're going to need cover identities and matching paperwork. I'll have that ready for you on the jet tomorrow, which will leave from Gatwick at 11:00 hours your time. I don't believe you'll need anything other than your formal wear for this trip but I'd bring your packs just in case. Blueprints of Laurent's chateau will be available on the jet tomorrow as well, when we'll go over the game plan. Until then, let me get started and I'll get back to you tomorrow. Wade out."

Once their tech man's image vanished from sight, Ron stretched, giving off a mighty yawn as he lay back on the red-and-white-checkered blanket that they used for their picnics and stared up at the sky. His moment of inattention allowed his pink, naked friend to pounce on what was left of his third sandwich but the blond was too busy to notice, caught up in his own thoughts about the upcoming mission. Kim hit the tiny button on the side of her glasses that turned them into sunglasses as she leaned back, using her arm for support and began absently nibbling on one of the remaining cookies that hadn't been eaten yet.

"So, Paris, huh?" Ron asked lazily after a minute or two.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, Paris. It'll be nice to go back," his partner responded without much thought.

"KP, we were there less than two weeks ago on vacation, remember?" he asked with a playful smile teasing at his lips. All he received in way of a reply was a soft, non-committal noise, which only caused his smile to grow. "Excited about the mission, are we?"

"Come on, Henry, it's no big. We've been on hundreds of missions before this one, it's just a job, nothing more."

Having known his friend for over sixteen years, Ron didn't buy that line for a second. He rolled his head to the side to get a better look at Kim and, while he was unable to see her eyes, the absent smile that she had told him all he needed to know._ "Not excited, huh, KP? Someone's not getting any sleep tonight," _he thought with a chuckle. Unfortunately for the hero, Kim had heard it and mistook the tone as one of disbelief as opposed to playful and decided to have a little fun of her own.

Scooting over so that she was now looking directly down over him, the redhead gave her partner a sheepish expression, causing the blond to quirk on of his eyebrows.

"Maybe you're right, Henry, I am a bit excited about the mission. I mean, after all, it's our first one in over three years and I wouldn't want anything to go wrong on it. Like say, for example, if my partner were to be caught and tortured to give up his secrets in the most brutal way possible. Tickling."

With that, the former cheerleader made her move, her hands going straight for the sides of Ron's midsection where she knew, from personal experience, he was the most ticklish. The blond instantly erupted into a fit of hysterical laughter, having been caught totally unprepared for her attack. He tried desperately to grab onto her hands in an attempt to stop her, but he was too busy convulsing from the laughter to focus enough to get a good grip. In the end, Kim, who herself was laughing almost as hard as Ron was, finally let up when her friend started gasping out 'Uncle' as many times as he could given his lack of air. The pair of them collapsed into a heap, still giggling slightly, totally unaware that they had attracted the attention of everyone within earshot, most of whom simply gave a tolerant smile to what the mistakenly thought was a nice young couple on a picnic in the park.

_Friday, November 7, 2008 21:01 Central European Time_

The black Mercedes stretched came to a halt in front of the wrought iron gates and security checkpoint that guarded the entrance to the estate that lay beyond. The mansion that was the centerpiece of the estate was called the Chateau de Foret Noire, so named for the dense forests that surrounded the property on three sides and, as Kim and Ron gazed upon it from their vantage point, those forests provided an excellent backdrop for the shinning jewel of light that was the manor proper.

It was a sight that the teens had never seen before in person, as they had stuck mostly to Paris on their last trip to the Continent, and although they had seen photographs of European mansion before, the enormity of the palace, for that was truly what it was, was staggering. Even at a half-mile distance from the outer perimeter, the teens could still make out the ornate carvings, regal windows, and grand receiving entrance of the classic European home.

The luxury of the mansion reminded Kim of the 'above average' way she got to this mission. Having used mostly favors to put together rides to her various missions and using whatever means necessary, from military transports planes to chicken carrying trucks, the short flight from London to Paris was a dream. Granted, it was spent mostly in preparation for the mission, going over various blueprints, learning the layout of the house, and making contingency plans, all to make sure that their first MI-5 mission went off without a hitch, but it was still the nicest transport in the redhead's memory.

But all that was in the past and as the limo slipped past the gates with their faked invitations having worked on the guards, the two heroes put on their game faces. Both were dressed to the nines for the occasion, Ron in a white dinner jacket and black tie and Kim in a stunning Vera Wang merlot with spaghetti straps. The only real difference between their dress and the other partygoers was the plethora of assorted gadgets that Wade had deck out for them.

"Comm check, Wade," Kim said softly, verifying that her support was online. She had no need to worry about her driver listening in on her conversation; it was the same man who had been shuttling Team Possible around since they had first joined MI-5.

"I'm here, Karen," Wade reported in, his translucent image appearing before the two members of the team in their Kimmunicator glasses. "Visual and audio are five by five and I have your current location as inside the estate perimeter. I've hacked into the GJ satellite that's in geo-synch orbit over Southwestern Europe. A preliminary search shows a dozen or so guards surrounding the mansion and thermal readings indicate approximately a full platoon dispersed in two man squads in the woods. Could be a problem during extraction if you're compromised."

"Understood. We're here. Going silent," the redhead indicated as the limo came to a halt in front of the receiving entrance. A tuxedo-clad attendant opened the door for her and extended a hand in helping her out. She paused briefly, waiting for her date for the evening to catch up with her, before looping her arm through the one he offered and the two made their way into the party.

As the two headed up the red-carpeted white marble steps into the mansion, they noticed that a line of guests had formed. Unsure of what the delay was, Ron gave his partner a quizzical look, which was returned with a shrug, so they simply waited patiently as the line moved forward at a good clip.

After five minutes passed, the pair had wound their way up to the entrance of the manor itself when one of the attendants stopped them and politely asked for their invitation. Ron gave another quick glance towards his date, this one laced with a touch of anxiety, before reaching into the interior pocket of his jacket and extracted what the hoped was a passing forgery and handed it over to the servant.

"This way, please," he informed them with a gesture after he had carefully examined the invitation. By now, both members of the team were on their guard, despite the comforting reassurance from Wade that his faked invitations would pass scrutiny. It took less than twenty seconds before they finally passed through the threshold. The foyer was done in the same white Italian marble with two grand staircases mirroring each other as they reached for the second floor with a crystal chandelier hanging from the gold inlaid ceiling. But what may have been the most striking was the fact that there was nothing else in the vast space of encompassing off-white except for Messer. Laurent.

Meeting their host was precisely what the duo hoped to avoid. No amount of fake invitations or forged documents were going to be able to get them by a man whom they had never met. Two minds instantly sprung into high gear, futilely searching for a solution for what was amounting to a colossal failure five minutes into their first mission. Wade was no help, as he simply shrugged silently, indicating that the two were on their own.

"Sir, Lord John Westmoreland and Lady Catherine," the servant announced as he handed over the invitation to his master and as she watched Laurent take the invitation and give it a once over, she could feel a change come over her partner. It wasn't something that anyone else would have noticed, but she knew the blond for way too long to miss even the subtlest of changes. It was as if somehow he took on an air of supreme confidence, that there was absolutely nothing wrong at all, that they belonged here.

"Messer. Laurent," Ron extended his hand, which Laurent took. He then turned to Kim, "May I present my wife, Catherine," as she absently offered up her hand which he kissed with a regal European flair. At that moment, a random memory flashed into Kim's head. It was of when they had first arrived in London over three years ago. She had been worried that her passport wouldn't work and was nervous the entire time whereas Ron had just whizzed past customs without a care in the world. It was then that she decided to just go with the moment, following Ron's lead as she relaxed into her role. _"After all, Kim, what's the worst that could happen? We're discovered as frauds and have to shoot our way out of this fortress?"_ the redhead thought sardonically.

The Frenchman considered the pair for a moment, taking in every detail that both Kim and Ron presented him, as if he were sizing up an opponent of his. He lingered for a time in silence, which only added to Kim's anxiety, but Ron never wavered in his gaze towards Laurent.

"I was not aware that we had an English Lord on our list of guests tonight, Lord Westmoreland. You seem to be a little...young...for your position, if I might be so bold," their host questioned the blond when he finally spoke.

_"Oh shit, he knows we're frauds and he's toying with us,"_ Kim mentally screamed. She stole a glance at Ron who actually had a tolerant grin on and didn't seem the least bit phased by what their host was implying with his statement.

"Ah, yes, my mother and father died at a very early age and I was thus unable to claim my title until recently, which happened not more than a month ago, just shortly after I married my Catherine," Ron replied, while turning and making a gesture as if to present his new wife. Kim, not having a single clue where Ron was taking this, so she kept quiet and let him lead.

For a moment, it seemed as if the ruse hadn't worked but then the redhead noticed as Laurent's gaze went down to Ron's right hand, more specifically the ring that he wore on that hand. At that moment, she was infinitely glad that Wade was as through as he had been three years ago because part of the outfit that he had provided included a faux ring from the house of Westmoreland. Once Laurent saw the ring, he seemed to conclude that this young man in front of him was indeed who he claimed to be and that it was just another one of the men that he did business with.

"My congratulations on your recent marriage. And what sort of business do you do with us?" he inquired.

"We own a small firm that manufactures specialized construction equipment for various clients located throughout Western and Central Europe. We have just recently begun doing business with your company, Messer. Laurent, so I am not surprised that you are unaware of this. Besides, most of the day to day operations are handled by my general manager."

"Yes, I know how valuable a good manager can be," Laurent replied with a knowing smile. "Well, I shall keep you no longer. Please, enjoy the ball."

With a nod, Ron once again offered up his arm to Kim who silently took it, and the blond led his date past their host and into the grand ballroom. The room itself was as elegant as the foyer. It was over a hundred feet square and rising three stories high. The ornate hardwood floors were inlaid with a fleur de leis pattern and the ceiling was a fresco depicting a major battle during the Napoleonic campaigns. No less stunning were the guests that had come to such an occasion, all as elegantly dressed as the next with some big name stars that Kim and Ron recognized from both the small and sliver screens.

The plan called for waiting until Laurent was at the party enjoying himself before Team Possible began moving, so, having some time to kill, Ron kept up the part of the dashing young Lord Westmoreland and, taking Kim's hand in his, asked his partner/fake wife if she would like to dance. It was the first real chance that either of them had had to use their new skills outside of their instructor's studio deep underground at the MI-5 training center and the redhead wasn't going to miss the opportunity.

The pair danced for well over an hour before finally stopping to rest. At first, they were a little self conscience of themselves as they knew that they could not afford a faux pas on the dance floor, but after a little bit, both found themselves lost in the moment as Ron led his lady around the room. When Kim headed over to a free table to take some of the pressure off her wary feet, her partner ducked off, returning shortly with two glass of champagne, one of which he gave to his redheaded friend.

"To us," the blond toasted as he tipped his glass to Kim's. It was a wonderful night and the heroine found herself giggling at bit at her friend, until invariably the mission came crashing back into her fantasy as Wade reappeared on her right lens.

"You guys ready to go?" he asked, which received a pair of slightly downcast faces that were quickly replaced by their game faces. Seeing that the two were ready, the younger teen continued. "Satellite scans show that the receiving line has ended and that Laurent's heat signature has moved into the grand ballroom where it was lost amongst the other party goers. Thus, there is a high probability that he is now at the party and you guys can get moving. Henry, you're up."

The first task for Team Possible was to hack into the security system of the mansion. Messer. Laurent had taken a number of precautions, including an off-the-grid power supply, all of which prevented Wade from simply getting in without a little inside help, which was what Ron was attempting to do. The blond gave his friend a quick look, then rose from where he was sitting and starting moving off to the northwest corner of the room, making sure to take his time about it.

This part was a bit difficult in that Ron had to wait for the right moment to present itself without looking like he was intentionally loitering a good distance away from his 'wife'. Fortunately, luck was with him and it took only five minutes before what he was looking for arrived, a lady carrying a purse on her way to the nearby lavatory. Timing it just right, Ron headed off on an intercept course for the women in question, as if he was headed for the restroom as well. Then, just as he was about to overtake his mark, he allowed himself a moment of 'Ron-ness' and tripped into her.

"Oh, my goodness, I am very sorry, ma'am. Are you alright?" Ron asked quickly, as he gently grabbed the woman to prevent her from falling. Obviously, she was not used to having physical contact with anyone and gave the young blond man a look that could melt ice, which was exactly what he had expected. When she roughly pulled herself from his grasp and uttered something in French rather beneath her status, Ron continued with the charade and put on his best anxious, embarrassed look, his hands moving in an erratic fashion as if he didn't know what to do with them. The lovely woman continued with her stare for a moment more before she moved to go around Ron, but not quite for the lavatory.

"**_Ah, let me get that for you," _**the hero offered when he realized that she was going for her dropped purse. In the slight collision, the woman lost her purse into the corner of the ballroom. With a huff, she crossed her arms and cocked her hips, but remained standing where she was with a cross between an annoyed and expectant expression on her face. Taking his cue, the blond hastily moved to the corner in question and bent down to pick up the purse.

That was when the MI-5 agent moved. Unseen by the lady that he had used, or by any of Laurent's security, while he was talking to the flustered woman, he had reached into his left pants pocket and palmed a small device that Wade had given him before the mission began. As he bent over to retrieve the purse, he came within inches of one of the literally thousands of motion detectors spread throughout the mansion, and one of the specific few that came with USB ports for access to the security network. So, reaching out with his left hand, Ron moved past the purse and deftly plugged the bug into the motion detector, then grabbed the purse as he retracted his hand. All anyone saw was a young man retrieving a purse for a beautiful woman.

Now that it was in place, the blond turned back to his mark, and sheepishly handed back her purse, which she snapped out of his hands and turned back to the restroom without so much as a single word. Once out of sight, the hero allowed himself a tiny, smug smile; using that stuck up bitch had been all too easy and now it was time to get this show on the road.

"Wade," Ron breathed as he got back to the table where Kim was waiting for, signaling that the tech man now had access to all of their host's systems. The younger man flashed Ron a quick smile and a thumbs up, then turned to his computer and began typing furiously. Using a signal broadcast from one of the Kimmunicator glasses, Wade quickly assessed the sitch. Breathing a sigh of relief at the fact that Laurent had no RF detectors and therefore could not tell that there was a pirate signal in his house, he brought up a schematic of the entire mansion, including current positions of all guards.

"Okay, guys, here's the plan," he started after a mere minute and a half. He displayed a layout of the specific wing of the mansion that they were in, with two red dots that were almost on top of one another and several blue dots scattered throughout. "Your position is marked by the red and the guards are the blue. Not surprisingly, the information is not stored on the accessible servers, but there is one computer that is not connected to the grid on a regular basis. It's located in Laurent's private study, one story up and in another wing."

"The path that I'm showing you," he continued as a yellow line began snaking itself through the layout of the house, "is the optimal path to the study. Fortunately, there is only one guard at the base of the stairs in your way, but there are several security cameras that line the path. What you're going to have to do is distract the guard, and then I can hack the cameras, shutting them off for a few seconds each as you make your way in. Once at the top of the stairs, we'll start the run. Now, go," he finished and blinked off the lens.

"What are we going to do about the guard that isn't going to attract any attention?" Ron asked as he turned to his partner.

"Oh, I think I might have a way," his redheaded date said to him with an enigmatic smile on her lips. "Just wait right here until I call you on the Kimmunicator."

Kim stood, without further explanation despite Ron's rather questioning gaze, and headed off towards the exit of the ballroom and into the foyer that held the double stairs and the guard. The blond wasn't thrilled with the way in which his partner had left him; sure, he had done so only a moment ago, but his partner knew exactly what he had planned. Now, he was completely in the dark and he didn't like it one bit.

"Wade," he called softly after pressing a small button on the side of his glasses.

"That was fast. What the hell did you guys do?"

"Nothing yet. Karen just took off and I have no idea what she's up to. I want you to reroute the feed from her glasses to mine."

A few keystrokes later and Ron was given Kim's point of view. She had made it to the foyer and was moving towards the guard rather slowly. The redhead seemed to really be taking her time, in Ron's opinion, and he couldn't figure out why, but he was getting nervous. It wasn't until she had finally reached her intended target when he began to get an idea of what Karen was up to and he knew that he had been right. He wasn't going to like it.

**_Oh, hello," _**his partner said to guard with a giggle in slightly slurred French. But it wasn't the French or the giggle that upset him. It was her tone of voice, the one he had only ever heard her use a few times and it was always, always around one person. Josh Mankey. That meant that she was using the one weapon at her disposal that Ron would never have. Her femininity. So, it was a good thing that he had his back turned to the rest of the room, for his look could have melted ice just then.

**_"Hello, madam. Is there something I can help you with?"_** the guard asked. Just then, Kim 'stumbled' into the guard, who had to grab her to prevent her from falling to the floor. As far as this guy knew, she was just another drink partygoer who had had a little too much to drink. The redhead giggle once more as she swayed a little on her feet, grabbing onto the man's arm to steady herself.

**_"Why, thank you. Mmmm, my you are a handsome one. What's your name?"_** she cooed at him while subtlety feeling up his arm.

**_"I'm sorry, madam, but I am not allowed to interact with the guests. Perhaps I can escort you back to the party?"_**

At his suggestion, Kim flung herself away from the man in a twirl, spinning once in the large open space before shouting, **_"But it's a party!"_** The redhead then turned and gave the guard a smoldering look, **_"And you don't look like your having too much fun," _**she added in a hushed tone.

Now Wade was becoming a tad bit concerned over what he was seeing, and it was not directed towards Kim, as the young teen was sure that Ron's continued look of displeasure was going to boil the champagne that he was now absently holding. Not that he noticed. The blond was focusing all his attention on the little drama that was playing out just a few feet away from him.

In the meantime, Kim had seductively sauntered over to the guard once more and flung her arms around the neck of the older man. His protests died in his throat as the redhead began to trace a slender finger across his jaw line, derailing the man's entire train of thought.

**_"This really is such a beautiful chateau that you have here. I was wondering if I could get a tour, maybe find some place a little more...private," _**with the last little bit whispered suggestively into the man's ear. That was enough for this guy, who was only human after all. Besides, he hadn't seen a party guest other than the beautiful little minx that he had in his arms and who was going to pass that up?

**_"Oh, I think I can manage to find something like what you have in mind," _**which earned him a giggle as he began leading the girl off down one of the hallways. Somewhere back in the ballroom, far out of earshot, Kim missed the sound of the stem of a champagne flute snapping at the stem.

It didn't take long before the guard stopped at a random door and shift Kim to his left hand and his right pulled a set of keys to unlock the door.

**_"What's this?" _**she asked, leaning her head on his shoulder. She was answered a moment later when the door opened to a rather plush game room. Deep green carpeting and upholstery with gold trim was seen from one end to the other, with deep mahogany paneling and brass chair rails on the walls. There was a pool table that was the centerpiece of the room, but Laurent also had a bar and several old fashioned bar games placed throughout, giving the entire room a very 'back-of-the bar', behind the scenes room where shade businessmen and government officials make back door deals.

The heroine was brought out of her analysis when she heard the door to the game room close and saw the rather predatory look that the guard was now giving her. He didn't waste anytime, grabbing the redhead by the wrist and spinning her around, so that he now had her pinned between himself and the door. That's when he leaned in kiss Kim's neck and learned, far too late, that he had been set up. As the man leaned in, Kim raised her right hand, placing it on the back of his neck and pressing her right pinky finger gently against his exposed flesh. All the hapless guard had time to do was give off a weak yelp of surprise before he went completely limp in Kim's arms. She roughly and disgustedly dropped the guard to the ground then hit the button on her Kimmunicator glasses.

"Henry, the guard's out. Meet me in the game room," she needlessly informed her partner over the comm line. The blond was all ready moving as fast as he could without attracting any unwanted attention and he reached the room in question in under a minute. He knocked briefly to announce his presence before opening the door and entering. Kim was busy finishing tying the guard up when she turned towards her partner.

"Are you alright?" she asked him, in reference to the scowl that he was sporting towards the unconscious man. Realizing that his emotions were as readable as an open book, he quickly shook them off, replacing them with his still serious yet less openly hateful game face.

"Fine, KP. He's down?" he replied with a gesture towards the bound man.

"Yeah, I hit him with a tranquilizer hidden under my nail. Not only will it knock him out but also eliminate anything in his short term memory, so he won't remember me at all," she explained while reaching down towards her shoes and pressing a button on them to release the high heals, giving her better traction to operate in. The redhead then headed toward the door, cracking a bit to see if anyone was in the hallway, then moved to exit the game room.

"You coming?" she asked over her shoulder, just a touch of annoyance in her voice when she realized that her partner wasn't following behind.

"Yeah, but its less suspicious if we leave separately. I'll be behind you in just a sec," he offered, with his goofy Ron smile, the only thing that came even close to the puppy dog pout. Still skeptical about what he was up to, the redhead nonetheless made her way silently to the top of the grand staircase. As soon as she was out of sight, the goofy smile was gone in a heartbeat, replaced once again by the scowl he wore earlier. The blond moved quickly, knowing that he had little time, and bent down so that his face was a mere inches from the guard's.

"So, you thought you were going to get lucky with my KP, huh?" he asked the unconscious man, his voice low and dangerous. "Lucky for you, she took pity and knocked you out otherwise you'd be going home missing a few pieces." He then stood up, regarded the man for a moment longer, then with a swift motion, brought his heal down across the man's face, shattering his cheek bone. His momentary flash of jealousy satisfied, he left the room and quickly joined his partner.

"What took so long?" Kim asked, unable to keep the annoyance out of her voice this time.

"Sorry, I was just making sure I wasn't seen. Are we ready?" he asked, changing the subject as quickly as he could. The redhead gave him a piercing look for just a moment but decided that this was neither the time nor the place to get what she wanted out of him so she dropped the subject. She pressed the button on her glasses bringing Wade into view.

"We're ready. Start the show," she ordered her tech man. The distance between their current location and the study was fairly short, but it was riddled with cameras that had to be shut down in precise order so as to minimize the amount of time that any one camera is down to prevent detection. To further complicate matters, there was a camera directly over the door to the study that had to be shut down until they picked the lock on the door.

It was a tense few seconds after they made it to the door and Kim slid her lock picking tools into the lock. Ron gave off an audible sigh of relief when he heard the tumblers click open. The redhead quickly turned the knob and entered the room with her partner right on her heals just before Wade reset the feed from the overhead camera.

A quick look around revealed a typical looking study. It was a dimly lit space with dark hardwood floors and bookcases lining the walls. The room was dominated by the large oak desk that sat at the far end of the room with a computer sitting on top of it. Kim, the computer expert, made her way over to the desk and began to get to work when Wade cut in.

"Henry, while Karen is hacking the computer, the blueprints show that there is a safe embedded in the wall just to the right of the door that I want you to check out," he informed the blond.

While Kim worked on the computer's security, Ron busied himself with finding the wall safe. Once found, he used his own safe cracking skills to open the tiny vault whose main advantage wasn't its locking mechanism so much as its camouflage. It took the hero only a few minutes to get the thing open, but it proved to be a pointless exercise as the only thing that was in the safe were a few stock certificates and other financial documents.

In the meantime, Kim worked her magic on Laurent's computer, digging through layer upon layer of encryption until she came to the folder that she was looking for. Bringing up accounting ledgers, embassy schematics, and secret communiqués, the redhead knew that she had hit the mother load, with more than enough evidence to bury the man for the rest of his life. The heroine took off her glasses and popped off the end of one of the stems, revealing a USB port that she plugged into the front of the computer and downloaded the intel to the next generation flash memory that was built into the glasses. Then she uploaded a virus program to the computer which she ran, causing critic physical damage to the hard drive, losting all the data on it.

"Henry, I got it. Let's..." she started as she put back on her glasses and began to rise when a noise from the door caught her attention. In an instant, Ron jumped so that when he was concealed behind the door when knob turned and it opened, revealing one of Laurent's many guards. Kim, however, was simply too far away to seek cover and, with the computer still on, there was no way to avoid the attention of the man, who had his sub-machine gun trained on the heroine the second he stepped through the door.

Team Possible was caught.

* * *

Author's Notes: Well, here it is, Chapter 9. Chateau de Foret Noire in French means (hopefully) Castle of the Black Forest. I'm hoping that people like this chapter because I had a lot of fun writing it, and its been a recent trend that the chapters I didn't like writing got good reviews so I hope this doesn't prove to be opposite :-). 

A note concerning this story going forward. I have decided to use something that I like to call 'James Bond reality' instead of absolute reality. Think of it this way. In the James Bond movies, everything they say, everything they do is mostly plausible, you can kinda see it happening in real life, but it's a little far fetched. So, if something seems a little too unbelievable, just keep in mind this decision of mine. But I promise not to let the story get out of hand.

To ComputerSherpa, the reason why they didn't leave any kind of note behind was because they rationalized that it would be easier for their loved ones to get on with their lives thinking that they were really gone than instead of being somewhere out there with no way to contact them. I'm not sure that would actually be the case, but that was what Kim and Ron were thinking at the time.

Right now, I'm working on another one shot given the good reception that my first one got. I hope to have that out by Christmas. If anyone is curious about Legend of the Lotus Blade, I have not given up on it, but I just need to figure out where the next chapter is going. Until then, enjoy Chapter 9!


	10. Chapter 10: Chateau de Foret Noire Pt 2

Despite her calm exterior, the redheaded heroine was anything but. In all her years as part of both the old freelance and new MI-5 Team Possible, she had only ever faced a firearm once before, and that incident had ended in the detonation of a nuclear bomb and why she was here in the first place. The major difference between that time and this was that the firefight in Siberia had kept her on her toes enough so that she didn't have the chance to think about the consequences of a gunshot wound. Now, it was all she could think about.

The guard who had caught her was, himself, a rather unremarkable fellow. He was of average height and average build, and the uniform he was wearing was a non-descript gestapo-esque number, complete with a black leather holster that strapped over his shoulder. What wasn't average was the sub-machine gun that was a mere three feet from her, fully loaded and in the hands of a man whom, she was sure, had no compunction in using it.

There were two other things that struck Kim as odd about the scene in front of her. The first was that there was a rather loud pounding sound emanating from somewhere in the room that she couldn't quite place, until the redhead realized that she was hearing the rapid beating of her heart. The second was that this guard wasn't French; he was Middle Eastern, Arabic or Turkish maybe. _"Come to think of it, the guard downstairs wasn't European either," _the heroine realized, momentarily lost in thoughts not concerning her death from a small piece of lead.

It was apparent that the guard had not expected to actually find anyone in this study. From years of crime fighting experience to her intense training with MI-5, Kim had become an excellent reader of faces and this man's body language was screaming things like surprise, anxiety, and caught off-guard. This explained why several seconds had ticked by without the man having done anything other than just stand there, although it seemed like an eternity to Kim.

Suddenly, the guard seemed to regain his composure, disengaging the safety on his weapon and bringing it to shoulder level, bracing it against his chest. He made several rapid motions with his gun, indicating to Kim that he wanted her to step away from the computer and out from behind the desk while barking several commands at her in a language that she did not understand. Still, she got the message and, failing for the moment to see another option, the redheaded heroine began to comply.

She had just about gotten to the front of the desk when two things happened. The guards switched control of his weapon to just his right hand as he reached down with his left, pulling his radio from his belt and bringing it up to his mouth to check in with the manor's security center. He was just about to toggle the button when the other thing happened. Ron.

When the guard entered the private study, the blond had been positioned behind the door so that when it swung open, he was concealed behind it and the guard simply missed him. Ron quickly assessed the sitch. His partner was captured but he still had the advantage. The hero thought about simply grabbing his Glock 9mm from his shoulder holster and turning the back of this guy's head in abstract art, but the gunshot would make too much noise and attract more unwanted attention. All he needed to do was keep the focus on Kim for a little bit while he snuck up on this scumbag and then...

The blond struck with the quiet speed that he had gained from years of training and his God-given reflexes. Before Kim could even blink, two hands encircled the guards head from either side and with a quick snap, the man's eyes rolled back into his head, the grip on his weapon slackened, and he fell to the floor, limp as a rag doll. The hunter had become the prey, although the guard would never know it.

For the other half of Team Possible, she had completely forgotten that she was not alone on this mission. The shock of being caught without any plan on how to get out of the mess that she found herself in caused the redhead to focus her entire attention on the gun that was pointed at her. In fact, she had given off a small _eep_ when Ron had snapped the guard's neck.

But her surprise didn't stop there. When the guard fell away, it gave Kim an unobstructed view of her best friend and partner but the man standing there was like no one she had ever seen before. Granted, he had the same features as her friend, was wearing the same clothes. It was his eyes that were different. They were so...cold, so devoid of emotion and feeling that it sent a shiver up her spine. There wasn't anything there, no guilt or remorse or regret, but on the other hand there was no lust or satisfaction or pleasure either and the redhead couldn't decide if that was better or worse.

"Come on" Ron commanded quietly, breaking her out of her momentary reflection on things. Now that Ron had brought her back, she fell instantly into mission mode. The redhead made her way back over to the computer and simply shut it off, having all ready destroyed the hard drive, and rearranging things so that it appeared that no one had been at the computer at all that night. During that time, Ron had made a quick search of the guard, finding nothing more that his weapon and his radio.

The blond checked the semi for any defects, and finding none, he handed it to Kim when she came walking up to him. Slinging it over her shoulder, she hit the small button on her Kimmunicator glasses, signaling to Wade that she needed him.

"Hey, did you guys get the information" was the way the teen genius greeted Team Possible when he popped on the Kimmunicator lens.

"Yeah, Wade, but we have a bit of a mess here" the redhead replied as she looked straight at the dead guard, using the built-in mini camera in the glasses to give Wade a full view of what she was talking about.

"What happened"

"Not sure if it was a routine sweep or if security sent him specifically here to check on something, but whatever it was, the guard walked in on us just as we were wrapping up. Sloth... neutralized him before he could radio in."

"I see" was the response after a short delay. "Alright, what do you need"

"First, I need you to monitor the radio frequency that the security team is using to gather whatever information you can" Ron broke into the conversation. "I have a working radio that is tuned to that frequency, so you should be able to pick up on which one they're using considering that they broadcast at regular intervals. Second, we need a way out of here and to our exit transportation ASAP. It's only a matter of time before someone tries to check in with our friend here and they put a lock down on this place."

"Okay, but its going to take a few minutes to plot the best course around the guards."

"Let me know when you're ready. Sloth out."

Wade gave both friends a quick two-finger salute before returning to his keyboard and disappearing from view. Without her tech man to focus on, Kim shifted it towards her best friend. He had taken out his Glock and had closed the door to the study, leaving open just a crack so that he could keep an eye on the hallway.

"Henry..." the redhead began as she moved to stand just next to the blond. He tore himself away from the view of the hallway, looking back at her with a look that contained equal parts apprehension, resignation, and determination.

"I know what you're going to say, KP" he informed after he had returned his focus back to the hallway. He knew she wanted to talk about the guard. As soon as the man had hit the ground, he felt an instant and powerful wave of guilt and fear overcome him, not that he showed it externally. And it wasn't over the killing of the guard, either; from Ron's point of view, the man had deserved what he got for pointing that gun at Kim. No, he was much more worried about his friend's reaction to all this, and he was sure that she would not approve of what he had done. The question was, did it damage their friendship and, if so, how much?

"And just what is it that I am going to say" she retorted, with a raised eyebrow. This earned an audible sigh from her blond friend and another quick glance back her way.

"You're going to ask if it was necessary for me to kill that guard" he began, not taking his eyes off the hallway. "And you're going to give me a lecture about how that's not the way we do things in Team Possible. Well, I'm sorry, KP, but it was necessary. He had a gun pointed at you, and I know that he would not have thought twice about using it. And after all we've been through, I wasn't about to let some no name guard end it like that. So, I know you're disappointed with me or mad at me, but I'd do it again. And I'll do it in the future."

"That's not what I was going to say" the redhead replied softly, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Oh"

"I was going to say, I should probably transfer the data to Wade when he contacts us next just in case" she told him with a small smile.

He turned his face once again to look at her, noticing the look of concern in her eyes, eyes that he thought would be filled with accusation, and gave her a big goofy Ron smile.

"Thanks, KP" he whispered and then, on pure impulse, he leaned in and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. They both stood there in a slight awkward silence, neither expecting him to have done that, when they were fortunately interrupted by Wade popping onto the lens of their glasses.

"Okay, I've got good news and bad news. The bad news is, another guard found the one you guys tied up in the game room and alerted your host. They're already securing all the guest downstairs, and are beginning sweeps of the upstairs. The good news is, I've found you guys a way out. Leave the study, take a left, and head to the doorway at the end of the hall. You need to get moving now."

With that, Wade image was replaced with that of a schematic of the section of the manor in which they were located. Once again, there were two blue dots, representing them, and a yellow line, indicating the way to go. Ron turned his attention from his Kimmunicator to the hallway. Verifying that the corridor was still empty, the blond chambered a round and stepped out of the study.

Once out in the hall, Ron quickly positioned himself up against the opposite wall, training his weapon in the direction of the staircase that they had used to get to the study in the first place, the most likely way in which the guards would come. Now that he was in a cover position, he motioned to Kim to follow, which she did, stepping out into the corridor herself and taking a similar cover position.

The two members of Team Possible continued their two-man formation, moving as quickly as they could down the hallway, opening the door and entering the stairwell. Once there, Wade popped back on their glasses, informing them that they had to make it up two flights to the top floor. As soon as the manor layout reappeared, Kim and Ron began moving again, transverseing the two floors easily, cracking the stairwell door, and saw a hallway similar to the one that they were on down on the second floor, with one big difference.

The fourth floor was laid out in the shape of a T, with a hallway running the length of the back of the manor and another one the jutted off from it, allowing access to rooms towards the front of the building. The problem was that it seemed Laurent had been able to fan out his men faster than the two heroes anticipated, and there now stood a clone of the guard that Ron had killed at the intersection of the hallways.

Ron, knowing that every second was crucial in making their escape possible, raised his weapon and was about to eliminate the second guard when he felt a hand on his wrist. Giving his partner a questioning look, the redhead simply tapped the elegant but fully loaded watch that she was wearing and whispered in his ear"Quieter." After a heartbeat, in which time the blond came to the realization of what she was talking about, he let a small smile settle on his face and whispered back"That's my KP, always thinking."

Moving out of the way so as to give his partner a better shot, Kim took a lead position, bringing her watch up to about shoulder level with the wind up dial facing the guard. Once she was satisfied that she would hit her intended target, the redhead thumbed a small, concealed button on the other side of the watch. Instantly, both agents heard the air whistle in front of them as a small dart flew out Kim's watch. The guard had heard it as well, but by the time he could do anything about it, the dart had all ready lodged itself in the man's neck, as the former cheerleader's aim had been true. As the toxin began working it way quickly through his circulatory system, the guard had just enough time to reach up and feel the tiny barb before he lost his grip on reality and sunk to the floor.

Their target now down, Team Possible once again began moving, a little bit faster than before as they were cognizant of the time that they had lost dealing with the guard that was now at their feet. The manor schematic that was still on their Kimmunicator glasses now had them entering the room whose door the guard had been standing in front of. As Kim worked some magic on the door lock, Ron contemplated the still form.

"Sleeping, stuck, or silenced, KP" the blond asked his counterpart, referring to the three different types of darts that Team Possible had at their disposal. The first one required some time in your bed at home, the second some time in a bed at the hospital, and the third some time in a bed at the morgue.

"Sleeping" came the reply, as Kim never took her eyes off her work. "Since he never saw us, I didn't think it was necessary to use the last one. Got it" she announced, as there was a muffled click from the door lock. The redhead swung the door open, allowed her partner access to the room beyond, who was carrying the guard slung over his shoulder, and then quickly shut the door. As if on cue, Wade once again replaced the manor layout as Ron unceremoniously dumped the unconscious man on the floor.

"Alright, guys, you now need to open the window at the very back of this room and repel down the side of the building. If you time it right, you should miss the roving patrols and be able to make it into the dense forests beyond."

Upon hearing his techno-buddy's plan, Ron crossed the room and peered out of it. The view it gave him was not one that instilled a large amount of confidence in the man. From what he could see, there was a large, and well lit, patio (if something the size of a football field could be called a patio) that the guards seemed to be using as base of operations for their forces patrolling the grounds outside the manor.

"Wade, the place is crawling with guards. How do you expect us to make it to the ground without being seen, let alone make it to the woods" Ron questioned forcefully.

"The comm. chatter indicates that the guards below are simply amassing there, getting their orders, and moving off. Within two to three minutes, the place should be mostly deserted."

"Then tell me why we had to climb two flights of stairs to repel down the building when we could have done it from the second floor and be exposed for half the time" came the next question, from Kim this time.

"Because you need a bit of time to wait for the guards down below to dissipate. If you had waited on the second floor, which by the way is now covered in guards sweeping the rooms, you would have been caught by the time it would have been safe for you to get moving again. I figured you'd rather wait on the fourth floor instead of the detention cells in the basement" the teen informed them, a little bristled at the third degree that he was getting from his friends and partners.

The former cheerleader shifted her focus from Wade to her other partner, once again a silent conversation passing between the two of them which ended when Ron gave a slight nod and turned back to watching the patio. Sighing, Kim turned her focus back to her tech man once more.

"Alright, thanks Wade. We'll contact you once we make it into the woods. Oh, and Wade? You rock."

Upon hearing that particular praise for the first time in over three years, all was instantly forgiven as the teen genius allowed a big, goofy, Ron-esque smile to find its way onto his face. He gave the redhead a crisp two-finger salute before blinking off the screen.

"Is it just me, or is he getting better at this" Ron asked once he was certain that Wade was no longer listening in.

"I think he was always this good. He just never needed to use it before" came the reply. This earned her an amused look, with a raised blond eyebrow and a slight half-smile, before he turned back to his surveillance. To no one's surprise, Wade turned out to be right on the money, as two minutes and forty-five seconds later, there were absolutely no guards to be seen on the patio beneath them.

Wasting no time, Ron popped the catch on the window he was in front of, swinging it open on its hinge to allow him access to the exterior of the building. Now it was the blond's turn to use his watch. Taking aim at the radiator in the corner, he fired off the high tensile wire that was attached to the knob of his watch, which, a half-second after it was airborne, became a mini-hook.

Once the hook had embedded itself in the pipes of the radiator, Ron gave several hard tugs on the line to ensure that it would hold. He was sure that the line wouldn't break; Wade himself had designed the new alloy that the line was made of and he promised that it would hold up to 600 pounds, more than enough for the two of them. Letting out some slack on the line, the hero climbed up onto the windowsill, about three feet off the ground, and turned so that his back was to the outside.

Having watched her best friend silently work, Kim now took her cue when the blond offered her an outstretched hand. Using his help, she climbed up onto the sill along with her partner, placing her arms securely around his neck. He reciprocated by wrapping his free arm around her waist, making sure that his partner wasn't going to fall in the repel. Looking over at her with a question in his eyes, he got a slight nod in response. The blond bent his knees, bounced on the balls of his feet once, and pushed off.

The trip to the ground was quick and uneventful. The two had trained for years in the proper way to repel, and from hair-dryer grappling guns to high tensile watch wires, they were experts in getting down the sides of buildings. Now came the _fun_ part. The closest spot from where they were to the forest was a quarter mile away, which they would have to traverse over open ground. Messer. Laurent apparently liked his wide-open spaces and there was no cover once they got moving.

They were actually making good time, aided by the fact that Kim had cut a slit in her dress that allowed her greater range of motion, and were about three quarters of the way to their goal when they heard it. Looking back over their shoulder, the two heroes could hear the low rumble of several vehicles off in the distance. Knowing that they would never stand a chance against a garrison of heavily armed guards, they turned and double-timed it towards the tree line, even as the sounds of the approaching guards grew ever closer.

The two had made it to about a hundred yards when the first of the gunfire erupted from behind them. The two heroes were running side by side when Ron pealed off and dropped to one knee. He fired off several shots from his Glock, not with the intention of actually stopping them, but perhaps buying enough time for them to make it to the tree line. It worked, causing the two jeeps that had been chasing after them to come to a stop, their occupants taking cover behind them.

As soon as he saw the jeeps stop, the blond was running once again. Unfortunately, while the jeeps may have stopped, the firefight had not. Kim had made it into the woods and was taking cover behind one of the large oaks, watching her best friend make his way to her position, praying that he would make it all right. The blond made it to the twenty-yard mark before his partner heard a loud grunt and saw him topple over into the grassy field, face first.

"Henry" came the scream from Kim's mouth that was almost drowned out by the roar of the gunfire. Abandoning her place of safety, the heroine was running at full tilt against the oncoming weapons fire as she raced to her friend's position. Dropping to a similar prone position, her head a few inches from his, she shook him violently in an attempt to wake the still form. It took a few seconds, but the blond started to come around, still groggy and very much unaware of his surroundings.

"Keep your head down" the redhead shouted at him, as she roughly shoved his face once again into the dirt when he tried to pick his head up. "We've got about twenty more yards to go. Think you can make it"

"Yeah, I can make it. Ready" and they took off once again for the dense woods and relative safety. This time, their fortune favored them, and they made it into the forest, moving ever deeper to avoid detection. The growth was very dense and made travel slow and difficult, but it seemed that their enemy had given them a slight advantage as they were not pressing their attack into the woods itself. Kim and Ron could still hear the shouts and see the searchlights that were mounted to the jeeps at the edge of the forest, but did not hear the telltale sounds of a group of men pushing their way haphazardly thought the bush. Once they were a few hundred yards into the forest, Kim contacted Wade on the Kimmunicator.

"Wade, we've got a bit of a problem here" she told her tech man quietly. "What the hell happened"

"A guard that was stationed on the roof spotted you, but you were already out of his range so they dispatched eight guards, four to a jeep, to intercept you. Are you guys alright"

"I'm fine, but I think Sloth might be injured."

"Don't worry about me, I'm fine" came the reply from a few feet over. Kim could see that he was anything but fine, as both members of the team had activated the built in night vision capabilities in their glasses. Ron had slumped up against a nearby tree and had sunk to the ground. His face showed pale, clammy features and he was sweating more than he should be.

"Wade, I think Sloth might be going into shock. We're going to stop here for a moment so I can check him out."

"Negative, Wade. The Fox and I need to get moving again. Who knows when those guards are going to start moving into the woods after us again? Can't take the risk..." he ordered, but it was plain to the both of them that he was in some pain.

"Okay, Wade, what's next" Kim reluctantly agreed after a moments contemplation. After seeing the look on her best friend's face, she knew that his mind was set. She also knew that he wasn't going to relax until he was sure that she was safe, something that they had talked about endlessly and usually ended in a big argument over. _"Damn you, Ron! Stop being so macho" _she silently cursed him before turning her attention back to her 'eye in the sky' man.

"The goods news is, the eight guards that were chasing you aren't entering the forest, and I don't think they're likely to. The bad news is, Laurent had two man squads deployed before the start of the party into the woods. There are two such squads that are close to your position now. You are here" he went on as his image was replace with a map of the entire Chateau de Foret Noire estate"Your exit is here" and it was indicated by a green dot appearing on the map along with two blue dots and four red ones.

"There is a dirt road that runs through this forest. If you take it due East, you will end up on a road on the outskirts of Paris. Take that road for a quarter mile North and you will come to the last stop on one of the Metro's lines. Take the Metro to Charles de Gaulle airport and you're home free. The pilot is standing by for a priority takeoff should you make it."

"And how do we make it down this dirt road? It looks to be several miles before it hits the avenue that you're talking about" Kim asked.

"It's six miles to the avenue, actually. But the green dot represents, not only the best spot to hit the dirt road, but also where a motorcycle has been hidden for you. That's your means of escape."

"Alright, Wade, we're outta here. We'll contact you again once we're on the jet. Fox out" and Wade blinked off the screen.

"Okay, Henry, you ready" the redhead asked as she went over to help her partner up. He got to his feet, albeit shakily and only with Kim's aid. She gave him a questioning look, but he returned it with a small smile and a quick nod, indicating that he was okay. The heroine would have liked to let him rest here a moment longer, but she was concerned with the position of one of the squads. If they continued along the heading they were currently traveling on, that squad would be in their way to the motorcycle and another gunfight was something she desperately wanted to avoid.

The fortune that they had gained, however, seemed to have run out. Ron was in no shape to lead (and despite repeated questioning from Kim, refused to say that anything was wrong), so Kim took point, steering them on the most direct path to the motorcycle. This required them, unfortunately, to pass pretty close to the two guards. The two agents were counting on the fact that the growth would be dense enough so that, even if the guards had night vision goggles, which was a distinct possibility, they could conceal themselves and the guards would miss the two of them.

They had actually made it past the two men and had a clear shot straight to their transportation when Ron accidentally stepped on a branch that had fallen to the forest floor. The two of them quickly dropped into prone, concealed positions but the unmistakable _crack! _that reverberated throughout the vicinity instantly alerted the two guards to Team Possible's location. Making a quick decision, and using what was left of their element of surprise, Ron sprang up from his hidden position, took aim with his Glock, and took both guards down with three shots before his enemy could even get off a shot.

The immediate threat neutralized, Team Possible now had another problem to deal with. There were easily three other two man teams within range to hear the gunshots, and a quick check of the map on the Kimmunicator revealed that they were now making their way, as fast as they could, towards the two heroes. Abandoning all pretense of concealment, the Fox and the Sloth now made a desperate dash towards the hidden bike.

It soon became clear that, if Kim were to just take off, she would easily make it to the bike and the safety of the Metro without ever coming close to another guard. However, Ron was not able to keep up quite as well. His injuries were now painfully obvious to be more severe than he was letting on, and Kim had to keep redoubling back to help him. Towards the end, the redhead simply ended up half supporting, half dragging the blond to the motorcycle.

Finally, after what seemed to the heroine an eternity, they made it to the green dot on the map. It took the MI-5 agent an instant to locate the hidden bike, as her partner dropped to the ground to rest. He was looking worse by the minute, as his face took on a pallor that was forcing the former cheerleader to use every ounce of her self-control to not start panicking on the spot. The bike, a Kawasaki crotch-rocket job, came to life as the engine gave off a healthy purr. The problem was, the other guard squads now had a noise source to focus in on. A final check of the map revealed that they were about a few hundred yards outside of firing range.

Putting down the kickstand, Kim made her way rapidly over to where her partner was lying on the ground. Kneeling down, she put on arm around his shoulder while putting his arm around her shoulder and, as gently as she could under the circumstances, pulled him up off the ground. That's when she noticed for the first time that he was favoring his left arm, as it hung loosely at his side. But now was not the time to be worried about that; the redhead could now hear the chatter of the guards as they got ever closer.

Wasting no time, Kim placed her best friend on the back seat of the bike while she hopped on the front one. As soon as she was on the Kawasaki, she felt Ron wrap his right arm, and just his right arm, around her and slump forward, resting his cheek against her back. The redhead was now worried that he wasn't holding on tight enough and might fall off, but her time ran out. The first of the squads had made it within sight of Team Possible and had opened fire.

_"Hang on, Henry"_ she mentally screamed at the blond as she popped the clutch, shifted gears, reengaged the clutch, and opened the throttle. The bike took off, screaming down the dirt path, as Kim ran through both first and second gear amid a hail of gunfire. The guards were yelling and tried to follow them, but the motorcycle put distance between the MI-5 agents and them rapidly. Once she was sure that they were no longer being followed and they were no longer being shot at, she downshifted to second gear and dropped the speed of the bike, taking her left hand off the clutch and grabbing onto her partner's right arm, to ensure that he wouldn't fall off.

The rest of their ride was quite uneventful. The dirt road ended exactly where Wade said it would and the Metro stop was right where it was supposed to be as well. Kim ditched the bike in the parking lot of a store that was adjacent to the Metro stop, pausing only to initiate the self-destruct on the Kawasaki before once again supporting her friend on the way to the subway line. Fortunately for the two of them, it was well past one am local time, and this particular Parisian suburb was completely deserted. This stop appeared to be unmanned at this hour and, not bothering with it, the redhead simply busted the lock on the service entrance, allowing free access to the Metro beyond. A train arrived within two minutes and the two MI-5 agents hopped aboard, grateful that the car they were in was deserted.

Once onboard, Kim gingerly dropped Ron into one of the empty seats as she went to check the subway map. As luck would have it, they found themselves on the B line, which ended at Charles de Gaulle airport. Now satisfied that they were on the right track and out of danger, the former cheerleader settled herself down in the seat opposite her friend's so that she could finally get a good look at him.

He was once more slumped down in his seat, almost in danger of falling off. His tux was destroyed, with multiple rips and tears in both the pants and jacket. How he had kept the jacket was beyond Kim, but that thought was pushed aside by the absolute lack of color in his face. Anyone could plainly see that something was not right, and now that she had the time, she was going to get an answer out of him or start searching him for injuries without his consent.

"You're hurt" she said. This time it was a statement, not a question.

"This? Oh, no, KP, you've got it all wrong. I just can't hold my liquor" he joked, but soon dropped the smile when he noticed that Kim was in her 'tell-me-now-Ron-or-so-help-me' mood. "I've been shot" he informed her finally with a sigh.

"What" In a heartbeat, she was by his side, removing his jacket without any resistance on his part. Now she knew why he had been favoring his left arm; now that the black jacket had been removed, the crimson blood stood in stark contrast with the white of his shirt. In fact, almost half of his sleeve was soaked in it.

"Jesus" his best friend cursed under her breath as she ripped the blond's sleeve further open to get a good look at the wound. The bullet had grazed his upper arm, leaving a canyon of flesh in its wake. Blood was still issuing forth from it, but it wasn't the gusher that she had been expecting, thank God. The redhead them grabbed what was left of the sleeve and tore it completely off, folded it up, and began applying pressure to the wound.

"Wade" she practically screamed as soon as her tech man reappeared on her Kimmunicator glasses, responding to her call after pressing the comm. button on them. "Sloth has been shot. I need medics now"

That shook the teen up a bit. It took a moment for him to gather his wits after that revelation, but once he did, he was a flurry of activity, he hands and fingers leaping deftly and almost at a blur across his keyboard as he worked his magic.

"Okay, I have medics standing by at the St. Michel - Notre Dame stop. They'll take you both to the nearest hospital and…"

"Negative, Wade. We need to get out of country ASAP" came the weak sounding order from Ron.

"We _need_ to get you to a hospital before you lose any more blood" Kim told him in a voice that brooked no resistance.

"No can do, KP. It seems that I might be laid up for a few days, and if Laurent has any friends in high places, which I'm sure he does, we're dead meat. Let's get back to London and then we can go to the hospital" he informed her. His friend still looked mighty uncertain, even in the face of her partner's logic, until he countered"What good does it do us if I make it through the night only to be kill the next day by one of Laurent's men? Let's go home, get the information safe, then you can put me though any test or treatment you want. Okay" he asked her softly, breaking down the last of her resolve.

"Alright. But, Wade? I want some medics on board the jet when we take off, got it" the redheaded agent informed her tech man.

"Got it. I'll also have some agents of the DGSE waiting to receive you at the Metro stop to escort you directly to the jet. Wade out."

The ride passed mostly in silence. A few times people entered the car that they were occupying, but upon seeing in the blood, decided to find another car to ride in. Ron just seemed content to lie as still as possible with his eyes closed while his friend kept her eyes moving from his wound to his face. They were just about to the airport when Kim spoke again.

"What the hell were you thinking" she demanded to know.

"About what"

"About _what?_ About not telling me about this sooner."

"Eh" he tried to shrug and realized that it was not a good idea when a shooting pain went running through his arm. "You needed to focus all your energy on getting us out of there. If you knew I had been shot, you would have worried and we would both be dead."

"Cut the macho crap, Henry. We should have stopped and dressed your wound back there in the forest. It could be infected right now, you know."

"It's better to have an infection that can be cured later than to have waited and ended up being two corpses in the woods. And you know I'm right."

The only response he got was a thinning of his partner's lips and more silence. Before either knew it, they were at the airport Metro stop and waiting for them were at least four Parisian police officers and another man, dressed in a navy suit, who introduced himself as an agent of the DGSE. In no condition to argue with anyone, Kim simply surrendered herself over to a man whom she had never met before, but was beginning to feel a little better about when she saw that Ron was being helped into a wheelchair without handcuffs or restraints of any kind.

They did cause quite a scene as they made their way to the private terminal of the airport. It wasn't everyday that Parisians or the tourists in the airport saw a man flanked by several police officers whose arm was bleeding. By general consensus, everyone gave the party of seven a wide berth, stopping just long enough to catch a quick glimpse. Kim actually found herself having to jog to keep up with the officers and the DGSE agent as they were all moving rather quickly through the terminal.

Soon enough, they found themselves in front of the jetway to their jet. There were all ready two medics standing at the entrance to the jet and once the two MI-5 agents were in sight, they took over, grabbing the wheelchair and bringing it into the back of the plane. Once she herself was aboard, Kim informed the pilots that they were ready for takeoff, and, given their priority clearance, were in the air in less than five minutes.

As soon as the jet was off the ground, Kim sprang from her seat and raced to the back of the jet, where Ron was lying on a fold out couch. The medics had properly dressed his wound, which appeared to have stopped bleeding, but they had also hooked him up to an IV. One of the medics informed her that he had lost a lot of blood, but he was sleeping now and she could stay with him, as long as she didn't disturb his rest, which she agreed to.

The rest of the flight was passed with Kim, sitting in a seat next to Ron in her tattered dress, holding her best friend's good hand.

* * *

Author's Notes: First, I want to apologize for the serious delay in this chapter. Between exams at the end of December and January being the busy month in work and the fact that I spent a lot of time working on a one-shot that I still haven't gotten right, this one fell by the wayside. But, here it is, and to any fans that I might still have left, I hope you enjoy the chapter.

For those of you wondering, Kim and Ron got on the Metro at the Antony station, which is close to the Foret Domaniale de Verrieres, the Eastern part of which makes up my fictional Foret de Chateau Noire.

To Me262: Nope, I've never played Nightfire. It's just a coincidence I guess. And yes, as you know by now -), there is weapons use in this chapter. And both of them got training for vehicles, but only Kim got flight training.

To Civanfan: Ah, the Rufus question. I brought him along for a specific purpose, which you'll see in upcoming chapters. As for Ron's bit a jealousy, yep its what tipped off the other guards that they were there, which leads to the whole chase and is the reason why Ron ends up shot.

To AngelOfBlades: As for Rufus, he's there but just doesn't go on missions anymore. He will play a role in an upcoming chapter however. The thing with classic KP characters is if I did do it, I'd have to figure out a way to do it within the scope of this universe and I'm not sure how to do that yet, if I want to do it at all. But it's not ruled out. As for their parents, you'll just have to keep on reading.

To Godhand Number 7: Hey, no sweat. You review late, I update late, its all good -).

To captainkodak1: The email that you sent me was very touching. Thank you. And from what I can see, you are on your way to becoming an excellent writer. Keep up the good work!

To everyone else: Thanks for the words of encouragement. I hope you like this next installment.

That's all for now. I'm going to take an hour break then start planning out the next chapter. Also, there should be a big announcement coming soon concerning The Fox and the Sloth, so stay tuned. Until then, enjoy chapter 10!


	11. Chapter 11: Chateau de Foret Noire Pt 3

The darkened room was silent except for the slow tick tock of the antique clock on the wall and the clink of ice in a glass. Laurent sat facing the floor to ceiling windows at the rear of his desk. The hands of the clock clicked to 4 and the small feathered bird popped from his little door.

CooCoo

CooCoo

CooCoo

CooCoo.

The stars shone in the early morning sky. There would not be a sunrise for several hours. The small lamp on his desk provided what little light available in the room. The evening that had started with so much promise had ended in disaster. Laurent sighed as he took a slug from his glass of rather cheap scotch. This was one of his few vices. His guests from the party would be shocked to see him drinking such. Laurent appeared to his guests as the opitime of the accomplished gentlemen. The perfect manners, the perfect host, all the act he needed to accomplish his goals. He would retreat to this room with this scotch in the dark times of his life and right now his life was pretty dark. The drink would remind him of the happier days of school. He and his dining club friends from his Ivy League school. The songs and bawdy ballads sung long into the night. Now the drink did little to settle his nerves and gave him a good case of heartburn. His prescription of Nexium sat in the cabinet in his bathroom. It would not help him much tonight. Right now he didn't care, so what if he had a little heartburn, that was the least of his worries.

The evening had started out so grand. All the guests arriving dressed in their best. The guest list a who's who in society. Several stars of the stage and screen mingled with some of the top political and business leaders of the European Union and the United States. The reception line had moved smoothly as he greeted his guests. Two faces now were burned into his memory. They were the faces of Lord John Westmoreland and the Lady Catherine. His security men were just starting to go over the invitation they had presented trying to figure out how it had been made. A preliminary report lay on his desk. His own suspicions had been betrayed by his own demeanor. The couple were so cultured and refined, and so young. Some of the other guests had marveled at the young English Lord and his lady. They danced with a grace few couples could ever obtain. It was as if they worked and moved as one mind. They had perfect manners and appeared to be just who the claimed to be. Who would have believed they were agents of sometype?

The two had defeated the best security he could buy. One guard was in the infirmary, unconscious and sporting a crushed cheekbone. He had yet to regain consciousness. The medical staff suspected some type of drug but nothing could be located in his blood chemistry. Of course he was one of the lucky ones. The guard they had removed from his office had been killed quickly and effectively. His spinal cord had been snapped like a twig. The man had been one of his best operatives, a veteran of several operations. A third house guard lay drugged. There were causalities among the outside guards also. There were three dead, another four injured. A total for the evening, four dead, two crippled, four more injured. However the two did not get away unscathed; a blood trail had been found. Tests were already being done. If DNA was on file with any law enforcement data base they would know the identity of the agents. Fingerprints had been lifted and would be run through the various databanks in the world.

Laurent turned for a moment to glance at phone. He had made a call earlier to the Directeur Central de la Police Judiciaire, head of the Major Investigative Wing of the French National Police The man owed Laurent for his position and was very inclined to give what ever assistance was needed. That included making sure no major investigation would be made into what had occurred that evening. A cover up was nigh impossible. You can't keep several stars of the stage and screen as well as several well heeled politians and business persons cooped up in the ballroom when gunfire could be clearly heard outside. When they started to leave, Laurent could not stop them. Having the police keep them there would have lead to more questions that he did not want asked much less willing to answer. The morning would bring more questions of which he had no answers. There were already news reports of a man with bloody clothing being seen on the metro. A man of the same desription was seen later being escorted by police through the airport and onto a private plane. The plane used got priority clearance to take off and leave French airspace. It would not take long for the shooting at the estate to be tied to the bloody man and his escape Laurent had already checked his computer. It was toast. All the information that he had on it was irretrievable. If someone had the time to destroy the harddisk then they had time to copy what they needed. Laurent dictated to all his staff to backup all of their system. However, due to the information on his computer he never backed it up. Backup's would have caused security problems for the information that he had.

The door to his study opened and someone quietly enters the room. Laurent turns to the side not looking at the person interrupting his thoughts.

"I said I did not want to be disturbed. Be sure to lock the door as you leave."

The intruder walked up to Laurent's desk. Laurent spun around, ready to fire or kill the intruder depended on that person's worth at the time. Even in the dim light of the study Laurent could see the person stood at least 6-6 and was broad shouldered. His suit was from Jermyn Street, from one of the finest British masters. The dark pinstripe was barely visible in the dim light. His pants were creased, his tie in a perfect Windsor knot.

"What are you doing here? Don't you have better things to be doing than bothering me? Why don't you go pull the wings off some butterflies or whatever you do to get your thrills? Just leave me alone."

The man continued to stare down a Laurent. Laurent's stomach gurgled some more. The heat of his heartburn rose a little further. A slight twinge in the area of his heart told him that he would need to call his cardiologist in the morning. If he saw the morning.

The newcomer took a couple more steps toward the desk. Laurent instinctively rolled his chair back a few inches. The man placed a black bag on Laurent's desk and opened it. He pulled a laptop computer from the bag and took a moment to attach a wireless communication card and a small webcamera. He activated the computer, turned it so the screen faced Laurent and then stepped back,  
The screen slowly come to life, revealing a maroon cresent facing the right. A status bar crosses the screen, then the screen changes to a figure sitting behind a desk with his chest and face disappearing into a shadow.

"Greetings Mr Laurent. My associate here had some disturbing news for me about tonight's activities. Would you care to elaborate?"

Laurent's eyes switched to the hulking figure in front of him then returned to the webcamera.  
"Mr. Brotherson, please allow me to explain."

The figure's hands steepled in thought.

"Yes, Mr Laurent. Please explain how you failed to accomplish such a simple job as obtaining the files from the embassy that I desired. We discussed that you could obtain other files of interest in order to cover your true intentions and but apparently your greed clouded your judgment and you obtained more files than necessary. That has brought your activities the attention I did not desire.."

Laurent wiped his hands on his pants to remove the sweat sheen. He could feel Big Daddy's eyes boring into him. "Mr. Brotherson, I obtained the file from the British Geological Service. But I had to obtain some more sensitive material to hide the fact that the file had been taken. I…I…needed the extra cash to cover the cost of the operation. Plus, I made some bad investments and needed the money to cover what I lost."

Brotherson's voice tightened.

"I have no concern about your problems. I am concerned that your activities brought the undesired attention of certain people. Now explain what happened."  
Laurent swallowed as he stared at the screen.

"The ball was held as planned. Somehow a pair of agents were able to defeat my security and entered the villa as guests. Sometime after the ball started they left the party and entered the upper floors. A device was found that gave an accomplice access to all of the security systems. One guard was found in the library; whatever drug was used on him caused a short team memory loss. He also suffered a severe fracture of his face. Another guard was found unconscious in the hall. He is still unconscious and we have no idea when he will wake up. We assume the first dead guard surprised the agents as they were destroying my files. The others were killed in the gunfight that occurred later. Whoever they were, they defeated my best security men. However they did not get away unscathed. The man apparently was hit. A blood trail was found in the woods. Samples have been sent to my labs and we hope to have a DNA profile soon."

The shadowed figure nodded.

"You said two agents, one being a man. May I deduce that the other was a woman? What were the names that they used and what are their descriptions?"  
Laurent picked up a paper.

"It was a young couple approximately 20-25 years old. They used fake identities. The man was 5-11 approximately 180 lbs, blonde hair, brown eyes. The woman was 5-5, 120 lbs, red hair, green eyes."

Brotherson sighed as if in thought.

"Very well, Mr. Laurent, you have been a very useful employee. However I am very dismayed at your failure to provide the services that were your duty."  
Laurent slowly stood and started to take a few steps backwards as Brotherson's thug started around the desk toward him.

"Mr. Brotherson...Please I have already made the necessary contacts to locate those responsible."

Laurent tripped and fell backwards to the floor. Brotherson's thug stood over him and reached into his coat. Laurent screamed and covered his face.  
There was total silence in the room. Laurent uncovered his face to see Brotherson's thug standing over him presenting him a white envelope. Laurent took the envelope and looked at it.

Brotherson's voice came over the speakers.

"The hardship of your home being invaded and the gunfire have unsettled you. You are going to the Highdelmere Clinic in the Alps for two weeks to recuperate."

Laurent sighed as he laid his head back. He sat up and noticed that Brotherson's thug was extending his hand. Laurent smiled and took it to pull himself up. When he regained his feet his eyes popped open in surprise. Jerking his hand away, he stared at the small prick the ring had given him. His mouth flapped open and shut a number of times then he collapsed to the floor. The anomyous thug bent down, retrieved the envelope and placed it back in his coat. He turned and stood silently in front of the computer.

"Well done my friend. However, we must thank development. It took him 3 seconds to die. The venom of the Blue Poison Arrow Frog is the best yet. Now, attach my system to his computer."

The hulking man pulled a cord from the bag and made a connection between the two computers. The screen of the laptop began to flicker.  
"Hmmm, apparently someone did a very good job on the hard drive. Now let's access the hidden drive we installed in his system. It would have recorded video of whoever was sitting at the computer."

The screen began to flicker again for a few seconds till it froze.

"My, my what a lovely face. I wonder if her temper is as fiery as her hair."

The printer in Laurent's office came to life as the brute stepped over to it. He picked up the paper and stared at the picture.  
"My friend, your job now is to identify that pretty face. It will be such a shame to have to burn it off."

Brotherson's thug turned and placed the photo on the desk as he disconnected the computers and started to pack up the equipment. A beam of light illuminated the picture as it lay on the desk. Kim's face stared in concentration into the picture, a stray lock of red hair hanging down into her face.

"Oh, and one last thing," came Brotherson's voice from the laptop. "Pick me up one of those wonderful chocolate bars, the one with nougat in it."

* * *

A/N: First, I apologize to anyone who gets this twice but my original A/N didn't make it the first time around.

Second, most of the credit for this chapter goes to Captainkodak1. Without him, this story would still be dead. I had tried several times over the past two years to get this story going again, but could never get Ch 11 off the ground. Without his invaluable help, this would still be in limbo.

Having said that, from here on out, the story will be a collaboration between myself and the captain and all new chapters will be posted under the name GJAgents. This chapter will be reposted on Tuesday under that name (fanfiction has a 3 day wait for new accounts to post).

Once again, my sincere thanks to the captain for making this happen.

FA

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